
(/lass 1: 



Book. 



PRESENTED BY 



c 



REMARKS 



ON THE 



INTERNAL EVIDENCE 



FOR THE TRUTH OP 



KebeaJefc BeJigioiu 



REMAKES 



OX THE 



INTERNAL EVIDENCE 



FOR THE TRUTH OF 



3&etaalefc MtliQittm 



By THOMAS ERSKINE, Esq, 
I 

ADVOCATE. 



THE FOURTH EDITION. 



EDINBURGH : 

PRINTED FOR WAUGH & INNES, EDINBURGH ; 

T. HAMILTON, W. BAYXES & SOX, J. HAT CHARD & SOX, 

OGLE, DUXCAX & CO. 

AXD G. & W. B. WHIT TAKER, LOXDOX.. 

1821. 



■ens 









INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 



There is a principle in our nature which 
makes us dissatisfied with unexplained and 
unconnected facts ; which leads us to theo- 
rize all the particulars of our knowledge, 
or to form in our minds some system of 
causes sufficient to explain or produce the 
effects which we see ; and which teaches us 
to believe or disbelieve in the truth of any 
system which may be presented to us, just 
as it appears adequate or inadequate to af- 
ford that explanation of which we are in 
pursuit. We have an intuitive perception 
that the appearances of Nature are connect- 
ed by the relation of cause and effect ; and 
we have also an instinctive desire to classify 
and arrange the seemingly confused mass of 

B 



2 

facts with which we are surrounded, ac- 
cording to this distinguishing relationship. 
From these principles have proceeded all 
the theories which were ever formed by 
man. But these principles alone can never 
make a true theory : They teach us to theo- 
rize ; but experience is necessary in order to 
theorize justly. We must be acquainted 
with the ordinary operation of causes, be- 
fore we can combine them into a theory 
which will satisfy the mind. But when we 
are convinced of the real existence of a cause 
in Nature, and when we find that a class of 
physical facts is explained by the supposi- 
tion of this cause, and tallies exactly with 
its ordinary operation, we resist both reason 
and instinct when we resist the conviction 
that this class of facts does result from this 
cause. On this process of reasoning is ground- 
ed our conviction, that the various pheno- 
mena of the heavenly bodies are results 
from the principle or law of gravitation. 
That great master of theories, Adam Smith, 
lias given a most appropriate and beautiful 
illustration of this process, in his " History 
of Astronomy." He has there shown, how 
the speculative system was always accom* 



modated to the phenomena which had been 
observed ; and how, on each new discovery 
in point of fact, a corresponding change 
necessarily took place in the form of the 
system. 

There is another process of reasoning, 
differing somewhat from that which has 
been described, yet closely allied to it ; by 
which, instead of ascending from effects to 
a cause, we descend from a cause to effects. 
When we are once convinced of the exist- 
ence of a cause, and are acquainted with 
its ordinary mode of operation, we are pre- 
pared to give a certain degree of credit to 
a history of other effects attributed to it, 
provided we can trace the connexion be- 
tween them. As an illustration of this, I 
shall suppose, that the steam-engine, and 
the application of it to the movement of 
vessels, was known in China in the days of 
Archimedes ; and that a foolish lying tra- 
veller had found his way from Sicily to 
China, and had there seen an exhibition of 
a steam-boat, and had been admitted to 
examine the mechanical apparatus of it, — 
and, upon his return home, had, amongst 
many palpable fables, related the true par- 



ticulars of this exhibition, — what feeling 
would this relation have probably excited 
in his audience? The fact itself was a 
strange one, and different in appearance 
from any thing with which they were ac- 
quainted : It was also associated with other 
stories that seemed to have falsehood stamp- 
ed on the very face of them. What means, 
then, had the hearers of distinguishing the 
true from the false ? Some of the rabble 
might probably give a stupid and wonder- 
ing kind of credit to the whole ; whilst the 
judicious but unscientific hearers would re- 
ject the whole. Now, supposing that the 
relation had come to the ears of Archime- 
des, and that he had sent for the man, and 
interrogated him ; and, from his unorderly 
and unscientific, but accurate specification 
of boilers, and cylinders, and pipes, and fur- 
naces, and wheels, had drawn out the me- 
chanical theory of the steam-boat, — he 
might have told his friends, " The travel- 
ler may be a liar; but this is a truth. I have 
a stronger evidence for it than his testi- 
mony, or the testimony of any man : It is a 
truth in the nature of things. The effect 
which the man has described is the legiti- 



mate and certain result of the apparatus 
which he has described. If he has fabri- 
cated this account, he must be a great phi- 
losopher. At all events, his narration is 
founded on an unquestionable general 
truth." Had the traveller committed an 
error in his specification, that defect would 
have operated as an obstacle to the convic- 
tion of Archimedes ; because, where the 
facts which are testified constitute the parts 
of a system, they must, in order to produce 
conviction, be viewed in their relation to one 
another, and in their combined bearing on 
the general result. Unless they are thus 
viewed, they are not seen as they really ex- 
ist, — they do not hold their proper ground. 
A single detached pipe or boiler or valve 
could not produce the effects of the steam- 
engine ; and a man who knows no more 
about it than that it contains such a de- 
tached part, may very well laugh at the ef- 
fects related of the whole machine ; but, in 
truth, the fault lies in his own ignorance of 
the subject. 

But these two processes of reasoning 
which have been described, are not exclu- 
sively applied to physical causes and effects: 



We reason precisely in the same way with 
regard to men and their actions. When the 
history of a man's life is presented to us, we 
naturally theorize upon it; and, from a com- 
parison of the different facts contained in 
it, we arrive at a conviction that he was 
actuated by ambition, avarice, benevolence, 
or some other principle. We know that 
these principles exist, and we know also 
their ordinary mode of operation : When, 
therefore, we see the operation, we refer it 
to the cause which best explains it. In this 
manner we arrange the characters with 
which we are acquainted under certain 
classes ; and we anticipate the conduct of 
our friends when they come to be placed in 
certain circumstances ; and when we are at 
a distance from any of them, and receive an 
account of their conduct upon some parti- 
cular occasion, we give our unhesitating be- 
lief at once, if the account coincides with 
that abstract view which we have taken of 
their characters. But if the history recount- 
ed to us varies very considerably from or is 
directly opposed to our view of them, we re- 
fuse our immediate belief, and wait for fur- 
ther evidence. Thus, if we hear that a friend, 



ill whose integrity we have perfect confi- 
dence, has committed a dishonest action, we 
place our former knowledge of our friend in 
opposition to the testimony of our informer, 
and we anxiously look for an explanation. 
Before our minds are easy on the subject, 
we must either discover some circumstance 
in the action which may bring it under the 
general principle which we have formed 
with regard to his character, or else we 
must form to ourselves some new general 
principle which will explain it. 

We reason in the same w T ay of the in- 
telligence of actions as we do of their mo- 
rality. When we see an object obtained by 
means of a plan evidently adapted for its 
accomplishment, we refer the formation of 
the plan to design. We reason in this case 
also from the cause to the effect ; and we 
conclude, that a strong intelligence, when 
combined with a desire after a particular 
object, will form and execute some plan 
adapted to the accomplishment of that par- 
ticular object. An ambitious man of ta- 
lents will, we are sure, fix his desires on 
some particular situation of eminence, and 
will form some scheme fitted for its attain- 



8 

ment. If an intimate and judicious friend 
of Julius Caesar had retired to some distant 
corner of the world, before the commence- 
ment of the political career of that wonder- 
ful man, and had there received an accurate 
history of every circumstance of his conduct, 
how would he have received it ? He would 
certainly have believed it ; and not merely 
because he knew that Caesar was ambitious, 
but also because he could discern that every 
step of his progress, as recorded in the his- 
tory, was adapted with admirable intelli- 
gence to accomplish the object of his am- 
bition. His belief of the history, therefore, 
would rest on two considerations, — first, 
that the object attributed by it to Caesar 
corresponded with the general principle un- 
der which he had classed the moral charac- 
ter of Caesar ; and, secondly, that there was 
evident, through the course of the history, a 
perfect adaptation of means to an end. He 
would have believed just on the same prin- 
ciple that compelled Archimedes to believe 
the history of the steam-boat 

In all these processes of reasoning, we 
have examples of conviction, upon an evi- 
dence which is, most strictly speaking, in- 



9 

ternal, — an evidence altogether independ- 
ent of our confidence in the veracity of the 
narrator of the facts. 

Surely, then, in a system which purports 
to be a revelation from heaven, and to con- 
tain a history of God's dealings with men, 
and to develop truths with regard to the 
moral government of the universe, the know- 
ledge and belief of which w ill lead to hap- 
piness here and hereafter, we may expect to 
find (if its pretensions are well-founded) an 
evidence for its truth, which shall be inde- 
pendent of all external testimony. But what 
are the precise principles on which the inter- 
nal evidence for or against a Divine revela- 
tion of religion must rest? We cannot have 
any internal evidence on a subjectwhich is in 
all its parts and bearings and relations en- 
tirely new to us ; because, in truth, the in- 
ternal evidence depends solely on our know- 
ledge that certain causes are followed by 
certain effects : Therefore, if a new train of 
causes and effects perfectly different from 
any thing which we have before known, be 
presented to us, all our notions of probabi- 
lity, all our anticipations of results, and all 
our references to causes, by which we are 
B 2 



10 

accustomed to judge of theories and his- 
tories, become utterly useless. In the hy- 
pothetical case of Archimedes deciding on 
the story of the steam-boat, the judgment 
which he may be supposed to have given 
was grounded on his belief that similar 
causes would produce similar effects, and 
on his experience that the causes which 
the traveller specified were actually follow- 
ed in nature by the effects which he speci- 
fied. The philosopher had never seen this 
particular combination of causes ; but he 
knew each distinct cause, with its distinct 
train of consequents ; and thus he antici- 
pated the general result of the combina- 
tion. 

So also the credit attached to the nar- 
rative of Caesar's exploits, by his distant 
friend, was grounded on the conviction that 
ambition would lead Caesar to aim at em- 
pire, and on the knowledge that this ob- 
ject could not be attained except by that 
course which Caesar pursued. Although 
the circumstances were new, he could al- 
most have predicted, from analogy, that, 
whether the design proved finally success- 
ful or not, Caesar would certainly form the 



11 

design, and construct some such plan for its 
accomplishment. 

Our acquaintance, then, with certain 
causes as necessarily connected with cer- 
tain effects, and our intuitive conviction 
that this same connexion will always sub- 
sist between these causes and effects, form 
the basis of all our just anticipations for the 
future, and of all our notions of probability 
and internal evidence, with regard to the 
systems or histories, both physical and mo- 
ral, which may be presented to us. 

If, then, the subject matter of Divine 
revelation be entirely new to us, we cannot 
possibly have any ground on which we may 
rest our judgment as to its probability. But 
is this the case with that system of religion 
which is called Christianity ? Is the object 
which it has in view an entirely new object ? 
Is the moral mechanism which it employs 
for the accomplishment of that object, dif- 
ferent in kind from that moral mechanism 
which we ourselves set to work every day 
upon our fellow- creatures whose conduct 
we wish to influence in some particular di- 
rection, or from that by which we feel our- 
selves to be led in the ordinary course of 



12 

providence ? Is the character of the Great 
Being to whose inspiration this system is 
ascribed, and whose actions are recorded by 
it, entirely unknown to us, except through 
the medium of this revelation ? Far from it. 
Like Archimedes in the case which I have 
supposed, we have never before seen this 
particular combination of causes brought 
to bear on this particular combination of 
results ; but w r e are acquainted with each 
particular cause, and we can trace its parti- 
cular train of consequents ; and thus we can 
understand the relation between the whole 
of the combined causes and the whole of the 
combined results. 

The first faint outline of Christianity pre- 
sents to us a view of God operating on the 
characters of men through a manifestation 
of his own character, in order that, by lead- 
ing them to participate in some measure 
of his moral likeness, they may also in 
some measure participate of his happiness. 
Every man who believes in the existence 
of a Supreme Moral Governor, and has 
considered the relations in which this be- 
lief places him, must have formed to him- 
self some scheme of religion analogous to 



1* 

that which I have described. The indica- 
tions of the divine character, in nature, and 
providence, and conscience, were surely gi- 
ven to direct and instruct us in our rela- 
tions to God and his creatures. The indi- 
cations of his kindness have a tendency to 
attract our gratitude, and the indications 
of his disapprobation to check and alarm 
us. We infer that his own character truly 
embodies all those qualities which he ap- 
proves, and is perfectly free from all which 
he condemns. The man who adopts this 
scheme of natural religion, which, though 
deficient in point of practical influence over 
the human mind, as shall be afterwards ex- 
plained, is yet true, — and who has learned 
from experience to refer actions- to their 
moral causes, — is in possession of all the 
elementary principles which qualify him to 
judge of the internal evidence of Christia- 
nity. He can judge of Christianity as the 
rude ship-carpenter of a barbarous age could 
judge of a British ship of the line, or as 
the scientific anatomist of the eye could 
judge of a telescope which he had never 
seen before. 

He who holds this scheme of natural re- 



14 

ligion, will believe in its truth (and I con- 
ceive justly), because it urges him to what 
is good, deters him from what is evil, and 
coincides generally with all that he feels 
and observes ; and this very belief which 
he holds on these grounds, will naturally 
lead him to believe in the truth of another 
scheme which tends directly to the same 
moral object, but much more specifically 
and powerfully, and coincides much more 
minutely with his feelings and observa- 
tions. 

The perfect moral tendency of its doc- 
trines, is a ground on which the Bible of- 
ten rests its plea of authenticity and im- 
portance. Whatever principle of belief 
tends to promote real moral perfection, pos- 
sesses in some degree the quality of truth. 
By moral perfection, I mean the percep- 
tion of what is right, followed by the love 
of it and the doing of it. This quality, 
therefore, necessarily implies a true view 
of the relations in which we stand to all 
the beings with whom we are connected. 
In this sense, Pope's famous line is per- 
fectly just, — " His (faith) can't be wrong, 
whose life is in the right." But it is evi- 



15 

dent, that a man may be a very useful 
member of this world's society, without ever 
thinking of the true relation in which he 
stands to the beings about him. Pru- 
dence, honourable feelings, and instinctive 
good-nature, may insure to any man, in or- 
dinary times, an excellent reputation. But 
the scene of our present contemplation lies 
in the spiritual universe of God, and the 
character that we speak of must be adapt- 
ed to that society. We cannot but be- 
lieve that true moral perfection contains 
the elements of happiness in that higher 
state ; and therefore we cannot but believe 
that that view of our moral relations, and 
of the beings to whom we are so related, 
which leads to this moral perfection, must 
be the true view. But if the attainment 
of this character be the important object, 
why lay so much stress upon any particu- 
lar view ? The reason is obvious : We 
cannot, according to the constitution of our 
nature, induce upon our minds any parti- 
cular state of moral feeling without an ade- 
quate cause. We cannot feel anger, or 
love, or hatred, or fear, by simply endea- 
vouring so to feel. In order to have the 



16 

feeling, we must have some object present 
to our minds which will naturally excite 
the feeling. Therefore, as moral perfec- 
tion consists of a combination of moral feel- 
ings (leading to correspondent action), it 
can only have place in a mind which is un- 
der the impression or has a present view of 
those objects which naturally produce that 
combination of feelings. 

The object of this Dissertation is to an- 
alyse the component parts of the Christian 
scheme of doctrine, with reference to its 
bearings both on the character of God and 
on the character of man ; and to demon- 
strate, that its facts not only present an ex- 
pressive exhibition of all the moral quali- 
ties which can be conceived to reside in the 
Divine mind, but also contain all those ob- 
jects which have a natural tendency to ex- 
cite and suggest in the human mind that 
combination of moral feelings which has 
been termed moral perfection. We shall 
thus arrive at a conclusion with regard to 
the facts of revelation, analogous to that at 
which Archimedes arrived with regard to 
the narrative of the traveller, — viz. a con- 
viction that they contain a general truth 



17 

in relation to the characters both of God 
and of man ; and that therefore the Apos- 
tles must either have witnessed them, as 
they assert, or they must have been the 
most marvellous philosophers that the world 
ever saw. Their system is true in the na- 
ture of things, even were they proved to be 
impostors. 

When God, through his prophet Jere- 
miah, refutes the pretensions of the false 
teachers of that day, he says, — " If they 
had stood in my counsel, and had caused 
my people to hear my words, then they 
should have turned them from their evil 
way, and from the evil of their doings." 
This moral tendency of its doctrines, then, 
is the evidence which the book itself ap- 
peals to for the proof of its authenticity ; 
and surely it is no more than justice, that 
this evidence should be candidly examin- 
ed. This is an evidence, also, on which 
the apostle Paul frequently rests the whole 
weight of the gospel. 

According to this theory of the mode in 
which a rational judgment of the truth and 
excellence of a religion may be formed, it 
is not enough to show, in proof of its au- 



18 

thenticity, that the facts which it affirms 
concerning the dealings of God with his 
creatures do exhibit his moral perfections 
in the highest degree ; it must also be 
shown, that these facts, when present to 
the mind of man, do naturally, according 
to the constitution of his being, tend to 
excite and suggest that combination of feel- 
ings which constitutes his moral perfection. 
But when we read a history which autho- 
ritatively claims to be an exhibition of the 
character of God in his dealings with men, 
— if we find in it that which fills and over- 
flows our most dilated conceptions of moral 
worth and loveliness in the Supreme Be- 
ing, and at the same time feel that it is 
triumphant in every appeal that it makes 
to our consciences, in its statements of the 
obliquity and corruption of our own hearts, 
— and if our reason farther discovers a r 
tern of powerful moral stimulants, embo- 
died in the facts of this history, which ne- 
cessarily tend to produce in the mind a re- 
semblance to that high character which is 
there portrayed, — if we discern that the 
spirit of this history gives peace to the 
conscience by the very exhibition which 



19 

quickens its sensibility — that it dispels the 
terrors of guilt by the very fact which as- 
sociates sin with the full loathing of the 
heart — that it combines in one wondrous 
and consistent whole our most fearful fore- 
bodings and our most splendid anticipa- 
tions for futurity — that it inspires a pure 
and elevated and joyful hope for eternity, 
by those very declarations which attach a 
deeper and more interesting obligation to 
the discharge of the minutest part of hu- 
man duty, — if we see that the object of all 
its tendencies is the perfection of moral 
happiness, and that these tendencies are 
naturally connected with the belief of its 
narration, — if we see all this in the gospel, 
we may then say that our own eyes have 
seen its truth, and that we need no other 
testimony : We may then well believe that 
God has been pleased, in pity to our wretch- 
edness, and in condescension to our feeble- 
ness, to clothe the eternal laws which re-* 
gulate his spiritual government, in such a 
form as may be palpable to our concep- 
tions, and adapted to the urgency of our 
necessities. 



20 

This theory of internal evidence, though 
founded on analogy, is yet essentially dif- 
ferent in almost all respects from that view 
of the subject which Bishop Butler has 
given, in his most valuable and philosophi- 
cal work on the analogy between natural 
and revealed religion. His design was to 
answer objections against revealed religion, 
arising out of the difficulties connected with 
many of its doctrines, by showing that pre- 
cisely the same difficulties occur in natural 
religion and in the ordinary course of pro- 
vidence. This argument converts even the 
difficulties of revelation into evidences of 
its genuineness ; because it employs them 
to establish the identity of the Author of 
Revelation and the Author of Nature. My 
object is quite different. I mean to show 
that there is an intelligible and necessary 
connexion between the doctrinal facts of re- 
velation and the character of God (as de- 
duced from natural religion), in the same 
way as there is an intelligible and neces- 
sary connexion between the character of a 
man and his most characteristic actions ; 
and farther, that the belief of these doctri- 
nal facts has an intelligible and necessary 



21 

tendency to produce the Christian charac- 
ter, in the same way that the belief of dan- 
ger has an intelligible and necessary ten- 
dency to produce fear. 

Perhaps it may appear to some minds* 
that although all this should be admitted, 
little or no weight has been added to the 
evidence for the truth of revelation. These 
persons have been in the habit of thinking 
that the miraculous inspiration of the Scrip- 
tures is the sole point of importance : 
Whereas the inspiration, when demon- 
strated, is no more than an evidence for the 
truth of that system which is communicat- 
ed through this channel. If the Christian 
system be true, it would have been so al- 
though it had never been miraculously re- 
vealed to men. This principle, at least, is 
completely recognized with regard to the 
moral precepts. The duties of justice and 
benevolence are acknowledged to be reali- 
ties altogether independent of the enforce- 
ments of any inspired revelation. The cha- 
racter of God is just as immutable, and as 
independent of any inspired revelation, as 
these duties ; and so also are the acts of 
government proceeding from this charac- 



22 

ter. We cannot have stronger evidence for 
any truth whatever, than that which we 
have for the reality of moral obligations. 
Upon this basis has been reared the sys- 
tem of natural religion as far as relates to 
the moral character of God, by simply 
clothing the Supreme Being with all the 
moral excellencies of human nature in an 
infinite degree. A system of religion which 
is opposed to these moral obligations, is op- 
posed also to right reason. This sense of 
moral obligation, then, which is the stand- 
ard to which reason instructs man to ad- 
just his system of natural religion, conti- 
nues to be the test by which he ought to 
try all pretensions to divine revelation. If 
the actions ascribed to God by any system 
of religion present a view of the divine cha- 
racter which is at variance with the idea 
of moral perfection, we have no reason to 
believe that these are really the actions of 
God. But if, on the contrary, they have 
a strong and distinct tendency to elevate 
and dilate our notions of goodness, and 
are in perfect harmony with these notions, 
we have reason to believe that they may 
be the actions of God ; because they are 



23 

intimately connected with those moral con- 
victions which form the first principles of 
all our reasonings on this subject. This, 
then, is the first reasonable test of the truth 
of a religion — that it should coincide with 
the moral constitution of the human mind. 
But, secondly, we know, that, independent- 
ly of all moral reasoning or consideration, 
our minds, by their natural constitution, 
are liable to receive certain impressions 
from certain objects when present to them. 
Thus, without any exercise of the moral 
judgment, they are liable to the impres- 
sions of love and hatred, and fear and hope, 
when certain corresponding objects are pre- 
sented to them. And it is evident that 
the moral character is determined by the 
habitual direction which is given to these 
affections. Now if the actions attributed 
to God by any system of religion, be really 
such objects, as when present to the mind, 
do not stir the affections at all, that reli- 
gion cannot influence the character, and is 
therefore utterly useless ; If they be such 
as do indeed rouse the affections, but at the 
same time give them a wrong direction* 
that religion is worse than useless-— it is 



24 

pernicious : But if they can be shown to 
be such as have a necessary tendency to 
excite these natural emotions on the be- 
half of goodness, and to draw the current 
of our affections and wills into this moral 
channel, we are entitled to draw another 
argument, from this circumstance, in fa- 
vour of the truth of that religion ; because 
we may presume that God would suit his 
communications to the capacities and in- 
stincts of his creatures. The second test, 
then, of the truth of a religion, is — that it 
should coincide with the physical constitu- 
tion of the human mind. But, farther, 
there is much moral evil and much misery 
in the world. There are many bad pas- 
sions in the mind ; and there is a series of 
events continually going forward, which 
tend to excite a great variety of feelings. 
Now, a religion has one of the characters 
of truth, when it is accommodated to all 
these circumstances, — when it offers par- 
don without lowering the standard of mo- 
ral duty ; when its principles convert the 
varied events into opportunities of growing 
in conformity to God, and of acquiring the 
character of happiness ; aud when it tem- 



25 

pers the elevation of prosperity, and the de- 
pression of adversity. The third test, then, 
of the truth of a religion, is, — that it should 
coincide with the circumstances in which 
man is found in this world. It may be 
said, that a religion in which these three 
conditions meet, rests upon the most in- 
disputable axioms of the science of human 
nature. All these conditions can be proved 
to meet in the religion of the Bible ; and 
the wide divergence from them which is so 
palpable in all other religious systems, phi- 
losophical as well as popular, which have 
come to our knowledge, is a very strong 
argument for the Divine inspiration of the 
Bible, especially when the artless simpli- 
citv of its manner, and the circumstances 
of the country in which it was written, are 
taken into consideration. 

It may be proper to remark, that the 
acts attributed to the Divine government 
are usually termed " doctrines," to distin- 
guish them from the moral precepts of a 
religion. 

When I make use of the terms " mani- 
festation" and " exhibition," which I shall 
have frequent occasion to do in the course 
C 



26 

of the following observations, I am very far 
from meaning any thing like a mere sem- 
blance of action without the substance. In 
fact, nothing can be a true manifestation 
of the Divine character, w T hich is not, at 
the same time, a direct and necessary re- 
sult of the Divine principles, and a true 
narration of the Divine conduct. But 
these terms suit best with the leading idea 
which I wish to explain, — viz. that the 
facts of revelation are developments of the 
moral principles of the Deity, and carry 
an influential address to the feelings of 
man. The whole of their importance, in- 
deed, hinges upon their being a reality; 
and it is the truth of this reality which 
is demonstrated by their holy consistency 
with the character of their Author, and 
their sanctifying applicability to the hearts 
of his creatures. I may observe also, that, 
in the illustrations which are introduced, I 
have aimed rather at a broad and general 
resemblance than at a minute coincidence 
in all particulars, which is perhaps not at- 
tainable in any comparison between earthly 
things and heavenly. 



27 

I. As it is a matter of the very highest 
importance in the study of religion, to be 
fully satisfied that there is a real connec- 
tion between happiness and the knowledge 
and love of God, I have commenced these 
remarks by explaining the nature of this 
connection. I have here endeavoured to 
show, that the object of a true religion 
must be to present to the minds of men 
such a view of the character of their great 
Governor, as may not only enable them to 
comprehend the principles of his govern- 
ment, but may also attract their affections 
into a conformity with them. 

II. I have made some observations on 
the mode in which natural religion exhi- 
bits the Divine character, and in which it 
appeals to the human understanding and 
feelings. And here I have remarked the 
great advantage which a general principle 
of morality possesses in its appeals to minds 
constituted like ours, when it comes forth 
to us in the shape of an intelligible and 
palpable action, beyond what it possesses 
in its abstract form. 



28 

III. I have attempted to show that Chris- 
tianity possesses this advantage in the high-' 
est degree ; that its facts are nothing more 
than the abstract principles of natural re- 
ligion, embodied in perspicuity and effi- 
ciency ; and that these facts not only give 
a lively representation of the perfect cha- 
racter of God, but also contain in them- 
selves the strength of the most irresistible 
moral arguments that one man could ad- 
dress to another on any human interests. 

IV. I have endeavoured to analyze some 
of the causes of the general indifference to 
or rejection of real Christianity, and to point 
out the sources of the multiplied mistakes 
which are made with regard to its nature. 
I have here made some observations on the 
indisposition of the human mind to attend 
to an argument which opposes any favourite 
inclination ; on the opposition of Christi- 
anity to the prevailing current of the hu- 
man character ; and on the bad effects aris- 
ing from the common practice of deriving 
our notions of religion rather from the com- 
positions of men than from the Bible. In- 
fidels are not in general acquainted, through 



29 

the Bible itself, with the system of revela- 
tion ; and therefore they are inaccessible to 
that evidence for it which arises out of the 
discovery that its doctrinal facts all tally 
exactly with the character which its pre- 
cepts inculcate. I have here also illustrated 
this coincidence between the doctrines and 
the precepts of the Bible in several parti- 
culars. If the Christian character is the 
character of true and immortal happiness, 
the system must be true which necessarily 
leads to that character. 

V. I have endeavoured to show the need 
that men have for some system of spiritual 
renovation ; and I have inferred from the 
preceding argument, that no such system 
could be really efficient, unless it resembled 
Christianity in its structure and mode of 
enforcement. 

VI. I have shown the connexion between 
the external and internal evidence for re- 
velation. 



ON THE 



INTERNAL EVIDENCE 



TOR THE TRUTH OF 



Bebeaieii 3&di#totu 



SECTION I. 



W^hen it is said that happiness is neces- 
sarily and exclusively connected with a re- 
semblance to the Divine character, it is evi- 
dent that the word " happiness" must be 
understood in a restricted sense. It can- 
not be denied, that many vicious men en- 
joy much gratification through life; nor 
can it even be denied, that this gratifica- 
tion is derived in a great measure from 
their very vices. This fact is, no doubt, 
very perplexing, as every question must be 
which is connected with the origin of evil : 
But still, it is no more perplexing than the 
origin of evil, or than the hypothesis that 
our present life is a state of trial and dis- 
cipline. Temptation to evil, evidently im- 



32 

plies a sense of gratification proceeding from 
evil ; and evil could not have existed with- 
out this sense of gratification connected 
with it. So, also, this life could not be a 
state of trial and discipline in good, unless 
there were some inducement or temptation 
to evil, — that is, unless there were some 
sense of gratification attending evil. It pro- 
bably does not lie within the compass of 
human faculties to give a completely satis- 
factory answer to these questions ; whilst 
yet it may be rationally maintained, that 
if there is a propriety in this life being a 
state of discipline, there must also be a pro- 
priety in sin being connected with a sense 
of gratification. But then, may not this 
vicious gratification be extended through 
eternity, as well as through a year or an 
hour ? I cannot see any direct impossibility 
in this supposition, on natural principles ; 
and yet I feel that the assertion of it sounds 
very much like the contradiction of an in- 
tuitive truth. 

There is a great difference between the 
happiness enjoyed with the approbation of 
conscience, and that which is felt without 
it or against it. When the conscience is 



33 

very sensitive, the gratification arising from 
vice cannot be very great : The natural pro- 
cess, therefore, by which such gratification 
is obtained or heightened, is by lulling or 
deadening the conscience. This is accom- 
plished by habitually turning the attention 
from the distinction of good and evil, and 
directing it to the circumstances which con- 
stitute vicious gratification. 

The testimony of conscience is that ver- 
dict which every man returns for or against 
himself upon the question, whether his mo- 
ral character has kept pace with his moral 
judgment ? This verdict will therefore be, 
in relation to absolute moral truth, correct 
or incorrect, in proportion to the degree of 
illumination possessed by the moral judge- 
ment ; and the feeling of remorse will be 
more or less painful, according to the ine- 
quality which subsists between the judge- 
ment and the character. When a man, 
therefore, by dint of perseverance, has 
brought his judgment down to the level of 
his character, and has trained his reason to 
call evil good and good evil, he has gained 
a victory over conscience, and expelled re- 
morse. If he could maintain this advan- 
c 2 



34 

tage through his whole existence, his con- 
duct would admit of a most rational justi- 
fication. But then, his peace is built solely 
on the darkness of his moral judgment ; 
and therefore, all that is necessary in order 
to make him miserable, and to stir up a civil 
war within his breast, would be to throw such 
a strong and indubious light on the per- 
fect character of goodness, as might extort 
from him an acknowledgment of its excel- 
lency, and force him to contrast with it his 
own past history and present condition. 
Whilst his mental eye is held in fascina- 
tion by this glorious vision, he cannot but 
feel the anguish of remorse ; he cannot but 
feel that he is at fearful strife with some 
mighty and mysterious being, whose power 
has compelled even his own heart to exe- 
cute vengeance on him ; nor can he hide 
from himself the loathsomeness and pollu- 
tion of that spiritual pestilence, which has 
poisoned every organ of his moral constitu- 
tion. He can hope to escape from this 
wretchedness, only by withdrawing his gaze 
from the appalling brightness ; and, in this 
world, such an attempt can generally be 
made with success. But suppose him to 



35 

be placed in such circumstances that there 
should be no retreat — no diversity of ob- 
jects which might divert or divide his at- 
tention — and that, wherever he turned, he 
was met and fairly confronted by this 
threatening Spirit of Goodness, — it is im- 
possible that he could have any respite 
from misery, except in a respite from exist- 
ence. If this should be the state of things 
in the next world, we may form some con- 
ception of the union there between vice and 
misery. 

Whilst we stand at a distance from a 
furnace, the effect of the heat on our bo- 
dies gives us little uneasiness ; but, as we 
approach it, the natural opposition mani- 
fests itself, and the pain is increased by 
every step that we advance. The compli- 
cated system of this world's business and 
events, forms, as it were, a veil before our 
eyes, and interposes a kind of moral dis- 
tance between us and our God, through 
which the radiance of his character shines 
but indistinctly, so that we can withhold 
our attention from it if we will : The op- 
position which exists between his perfect 
holiness and our corrupt propensities, does 



36 

not force itself upon us at every step : His 
views and purposes may run contrary to 
ours ; but as they do not often meet us in 
the form of a direct and personal encounter, 
we contrive to ward off the conviction that 
we are at hostility with the Lord of the 
Universe, and think that we may enjoy 
ourselves in the intervals of these much- 
dreaded visitations, without feeling the ne- 
cessity of bringing our habits into a perfect 
conformity with his. But when death re- 
moves this veil, by dissolving our connexion 
with this world and its works, we may be 
brought into a closer and more perceptible 
contact with Him who is of purer eyes than 
to behold iniquity. In that spiritual world, 
we may suppose, that each event, even the 
"minutest part of the whole system of go- 
vernment, will bear such an unequivocal 
stamp of the Divine character, that an in- 
telligent being, of opposite views and feel- 
ings, will at every moment feel itself galled 
and thwarted and borne down by the direct 
and overwhelming encounter of this all- 
pervading and almighty mind. And liere 
it should be remembered, that the Divine 
government does not, like human authori- 



87 

ty, skim the surface, nor content itself with 
an unresisting exterior and professions of 
submission; but comes close to the thoughts, 
and carries its summons to the affections 
and the will, and penetrates to those re- 
cesses of the soul, where, whilst we are in 
this world, we often take a pride and a plea- 
sure in fostering the unyielding sentiments 
of hatred and contempt, even towards that 
superiority of force which has subdued and 
fettered and silenced us. 

The man who believes in revelation, will, 
of course, receive this view as the truth of 
God ; and even the unbeliever in revela- 
tion, if he admits the existence of an al- 
mighty Being of a perfect moral charac- 
ter, and if he see no unlikelihood in the 
supposition that the mixture of good and 
evil, and the process of moral discipline 
connected with it, are to cease with this 
stage of our being, even he cannot but feel 
that there is a strong probability in favour 
of such an anticipation. 

AVe see, then, how vicious men may be 
happy to a certain degree in this world, and 
yet be miserable in the next, without sup 
posing any very great alteration in the ge- 



38 



neral system of God's government, and 
without taking into account any thing like 
positive infliction as the cause of their mi- 
sery. And it may be observed, that this 
view gives to vice a form and an extent 
and a power very different from what is 
generally ascribed to it amongst men. 
We are here conversant chiefly about ex- 
ternals ; and therefore the name of vice is 
more commonly applied to external conduct 
than to internal character. But, in the 
world of spirits, it is not so. There, a dis- 
sonance in principle and object from the 
Father of Spirits, constitutes vice, and is 
identified with unhappiness. So that a man 
who has here passed a useful and dignified 
life, upon principles different from those of 
the Divine character, must, when under 
the direct action of that character, feel a 
want of adjustment and an opposition 
which cannot but mar or exclude happi- 
ness. Thus, also, the effects of pride, of 
vanity, or of selfishness, when combined 
with prudence, may often be most benefi- 
cial in the world ; and yet, if these prin- 
ciples are in opposition to God's character, 
they must disqualify the minds in which 



39 



they reign for participating in the joys of 
heaven. The joys of heaven are described 
in Scripture to consist in a resemblance to 
God, or in a cheerful and sympathising 
submission to his will; and as man na- 
turally follows the impulse of his own pro- 
pensities, without reference to the will of 
God, it is evident that a radical change of 
principle is necessary, in order to capacitate 
him for that happiness. 

It was to produce this necessary and sa- 
lutary change, that the gospel was sent 
from Heaven. It bears upon it the charac- 
ter of God. It is not, therefore, to be won- 
dered at, that those whose principles are 
opposed to that character, should also be 
opposed to the gospel. Christianity thus 
anticipates the discoveries of death : It re- 
moves the veil which hides God from our 
sight ; it brings the system of the spiritual 
world to act upon our consciences ; it pre- 
sents us with a specimen of God's higher 
and interior government ; it gives us a 
nearer view of his character in its true pro- 
portions, and thus marks out to us the 
points in which we differ from him ; it con- 
demns with his authority ; it smiles and in- 



40 



vites with his uncompromising purity. The 
man who dislikes all this, will reject Chris- 
tianity, and replace the veil, and endeavour 
to forget the awful secrets which it conceals ; 
and may perhaps be only at last roused from 
his delusion, by finding himself face to face 
before the God whose warnings he had ne- 
glected, and whose offers of friendship he 
had disregarded, — offers which, had they 
been accepted, would have brought his will 
into concord with that sovereign will which 
rules the universe, and fitted him to take a 
joyful and sympathising interest in every 
part of the Divine administration. 

Of the attractive and overcoming loveli- 
ness of the character of God, as revealed in 
his word, and of the invitations which he 
makes to sinners, I shall speak afterwards ; 
but in the mean time, I would draw the at- 
tention of the reader to the serious consi- 
deration of the fact, that a dissonance in 
principle from the Ruler of the universe, 
cannot but be connected with some degree 
of unhappiness. Although I believe that 
few minds will feel much difficulty in ac- 
quiescing in some measure in the truth of 
this remark, and although there is no intri- 



41 

cacy in the reasoning connected with it, yet 
as distinct conceptions on this subject are 
of prime importance in all views of religion, 
I shall illustrate it by an analogy drawn 
from the more palpable and better under- 
stood affairs of this material world, with 
which we are surrounded. We may find 
striking examples to this purpose in a pe- 
riod of English history, which was distin- 
guished above all others for the remark- 
able contrasts which it exhibited in public 
sentiment and principle amongst the dif- 
ferent classes of the nation, and is therefore 
peculiarly fitted for elucidating the effects 
produced on happiness, by an opposition in 
principle between the ruling power and a 
part of its subjects. 

It is easy to imagine the stern and com- 
posed satisfaction with which a thorough 
partisan of Cromwell would contemplate 
the rigid and formal solemnity which over- 
spread the Government and the people of 
England during the Protectorship. But 
whence did this satisfaction arise ? Certain- 
ly from that concord which subsisted be- 
tween his own habits and those of the ruling 
power. His views and inclinations coincide 



ed at all points with those of the Govern- 
ment ; and therefore every measure of ad- 
ministration was a source of gratification to 
him, because it was in fact an expression of 
his own will. He was thus in a state of 
political happiness ; and had there been no 
higher government than the Common- 
wealth, through the universe or through 
eternity, he must have been perfectly and 
permanently happy. Now, let us carry for- 
ward this same individual to the days of 
Charles the Second, and place him in the 
near neighbourhood of that gay and disso- 
lute Court. We can in this situation sup- 
pose him moving about with a double mea- 
sure of gloom in his countenance, and with 
a heart imbittered by the general mirth, 
and irritated by the continual encounter of 
character and opinions and habits directly 
opposed to his own. He retires to a dis- 
tance from the seat of Government, and 
endeavours to hide himself from these pain- 
ful conflicts in the bosom of his family. 
There the arrangements are all conducted 
according to his own principles and his own 
taste ; and he enjoys a tolerable state of 
happiness, though liable to occasional in- 



43 

terruptions from public news, from whispers 
that he is to be apprehended on suspicion 
of treason, from the intrusion of Govern- 
ment officers, and from a want of thorough 
sympathy on political subjects even per- 
haps in the members of his own domestic 
circle. All at once, his quiet is destroyed 
by an order from Court to leave his seclu- 
sion, and reside in the metropolis, that he 
may be more immediately under the eye of 
Government. Here again he is brought 
face to face with all that he hates and de- 
spises. His aversion is increased by a sense 
of his inability to resist ; and he learns even 
to cherish the feeling and habit of misery 
as the only testimony that his soul is un- 
subdued. He is politically miserable. I 
have given this sketch as an illustration of 
those natural laws which make our happi- 
ness dependant on our sympathy with a 
power which overrules us ; and also as an 
example of the form and the precariousness 
of Jthat process by which we can in some 
circumstances contract our horizon, as it 
were, and shut out from our view those 
things which give us pain, and withdraw 
ourselves from the encounter of those prin- 



44 

ciples which are in opposition to our own. 
In the field of this world, there are many 
divisions and subdivisions, separated by 
strong barriers from each other, and ac- 
knowledging different authorities, or the 
same authority perhaps in different degrees. 
These are so many shelters to which men 
may betake themselves, when pursued by 
the justice or injustice of their fellow-crea- 
tures. But whilst we continue within the 
scope of one authority, although we may 
find a temporary asylum against its enmity 
in a narrower circle or more private society, 
we are continually liable to be confronted 
by it, and dragged from our hiding-place ; 
and must therefore, from the nature of 
things, be in some measure dependant on 
it for our happiness. 

Whenever the material world and its 
concerns are made use of to illustrate the 
concerns of the mind and of the invisible 
world, it is of great importance to preserve 
in lively recollection the essential difference 
which separates the two subjects. The 
one embraces outward actions exclusively ; 
whilst the prominent feature in the other is 
the principle from which the actions spring. 



45 

Thus, in the example which has just been 
given, we can easily suppose that Crom- 
well's followers were actuated by a great 
variety of motives, and that the solemnity 
of the Commonwealth might captivate dif- 
ferent minds on very different principles. 
Some pious people might have liked it, 
from having associated it in their minds 
with true religion ; some from the fanatical 
idea, that this outward form would atone 
for more secret sins ; some, from its mix- 
ture with republican sturdiness ; and some, 
from a hatred of Popery or of the Stuart 
family. Now, these principles are all very 
different in their nature, although their ex- 
ternal results might in some particulars re- 
semble each other ; and therefore the hap- 
piness of the citizens did not proceed from 
an actual sympathy of principle with the 
Government, hwt from a coincidence in the 
effects of their principles : And if the Go- 
vernment had had cognizance and control 
of the mind as well as the body, then those 
alone could have been happy, or could have 
been considered as good citizens, who liked 
that solemn system of things precisely on 
the same principles with the Government ; 



46 

and the collision of opposite principle would 
in this case have been as violent as the col- 
lision of external conduct actually was. In 
morals, an action does not mean an effect 
simply, but a principle carried into exercise; 
and therefore, in a government of minds, 
any effect produced by pride, for instance, 
however beneficial to the public, would get 
the name of a proud action, and would be 
condemned by a judge who disapproved of 
pride. Man cannot see into the heart ; and 
therefore he is obliged to conjecture or 
guess at principles by their effects ; but yet 
his judgment is always determined by the 
nature of the principle to which he ascribes 
the effects. Supposing, then, that we were 
under such a supernaturally gifted govern- 
ment, and that this government was so 
strong that the idea of resisting or escaping 
it involved an absurdity, — it would evident- 
ly become a matter of the very highest im- 
portance, to make ourselves accurately ac- 
quainted with its principles, and to accom- 
modate our own to them ; because, till this 
were accomplished, we could never enjoy 
tranquillity, but must continually suffer the 
uneasiness of being reluctantly borne down 



47 

by the current of a will more powerful than 
our own. This object, however, would be 
attended by considerable difficulty. In the 
first place, it could not be very easy to dis^ 
cover the precise principles of the adminis- 
tration : Almost any single act might pro- 
ceed from a great variety of principles ; and 
it would therefore require a long observa- 
tion and induction of facts, in order to ar- 
rive at a satisfactory conclusion. And, in 
the second place, after we had discovered 
those principles, we might chance to find 
that they were in direct opposition to our 
own. 

In these circumstances, it would be most 
desirable that the Government should, for 
the information of the people, embody in 
one interesting train of action the whole of 
the principles of its Administration ; so 
that an unequivocal and distinct idea of 
these principles might be conveyed, by the 
narrative, to any one who would carefully 
consider its purport. After Government 
had done this, it would evidently be the 
interest and the duty of all the subjects to 
dwell much upon the history thus commu- 
nicated to them, in order that they might 



48 

in this way familiarize their minds to the 
principles developed in it, and teach their 
own thoughts to run in the same channel, 
and interest their affections and feelings in 
it as much as possible. The people would 
engage in this with greater or less earnest- 
ness, according to the strength or weakness 
of the conviction which each one had as to 
the reality of the connexion which subsist- 
ed between happiness and the accomplish- 
ment of this object, and also in proportion 
to their persuasion that this history was a 
true representation of the character of the 
Government. Approbation and affection 
could alone constitute the necessary adjust- 
ment: Fear might urge to the prosecution 
of the object, but the complete harmony of 
the will is the result of a more generous 
principle. If we suppose, farther, that this 
complete harmony of sentiment is one of 
the great objects of Government, then a 
coincidence on the part of the subjects, un- 
less connected with a distinct intention to 
coincide, could not contain in itself the ele- 
ments of a complete harmony, because it did 
not embrace this great object of the Go- 
vernment. 



49 



SECTION II. 



I have made these remarks for the purpose 
of illustrating the object of the Christian 
revelation, and of explaining the necessity 
of believing its announcement, in order to 
the full accomplishment of that object in 
each individual case. The object of Chris- 
tianity is to bring the character of man 
into harmony with that of God. To this 
end, it is evidently necessary that a just 
idea of the Divine character should be 
formed. The works of creation, the ar- 
rangements of providence, and the testi- 
mony of conscience, are, if thoroughly 
weighed, sufficient to give this idea : But 
men are in general so much occupied by 
the works, that they forget their great Au- 
thor ; and their characters are so opposed 
to his, that they turn away their eyes from 
the contemplation of that purity which con- 
demns them. And even in the most fa- 
vourable cases, the moral efficiency of the 



50 

idea presented by these natural lights, is 
much hindered and weakened by the ab- 
stractness and vagueness of its form. 

When we look into creation or provi^ 
dence, for the indications of God's charac- 
ter, we are struck with the mixture of ap- 
pearances which present themselves. We 
see on one side, life, health, happiness; and 
on the other, death, disease, pain, misery. 
The first class furnishes us with arguments 
for the goodness of God ; but what are we 
to make of the opposite facts ? The theory 
on this subject which is attended with 
fewest difficulties, is founded on two sup- 
positions, — first, That moral good is neces- 
sary to permanent happiness ; and second, 
That misery is the result of moral evil, and 
was appointed by the Author of Nature as 
its check and punishment. This theory 
throws some light on the character both of 
God and of man. It represents God not 
merely as generally solicitous for the hap- 
piness of men, but as solicitous to lead them 
to happiness through the medium of a cer- 
tain moral character, which is the object of 
his exclusive approbation ; and it represents 
man as very sinful, by holding forth the 



51 

mass of natural evil in the world as a sort 
of measure of his moral deficiency ; and 
suggests that the disease must be indeed 
virulent, when so strong a medicine is ne- 
cessary. The fact, however, that the great- 
est natural evil does not always fall where 
moral evil is most conspicuous, whilst it 
gives rise to the idea of a future state, does 
nevertheless obscure, in some degree, our 
ideas of the Divine character. Our notion 
of the goodness of God, according to na- 
tural religion, does not then arise so much 
from the knowledge of any one distinct un- 
equivocal manifestation of that quality, as 
from a general comparison of many facts, 
which, when combined, lead to this conclu- 
sion. This remark applies also to our no- 
tion of the Divine holiness, or God's ex- 
clusive approbation of one particular cha- 
racter ; though not to the same extent, — 
because conscience comes much more di- 
rectly to the point here than reason does 
in the other case. The excitements and 
motives arising out of such a comparison 
as has been described, cannot be nearly so 
vivid or influential as those which spring 
from the belief of a simple and unequivo- 



52 

cal fact which recurs to us without effort, 
and unfolds its instruction without obscuri- 
ty, and which holds out to us an unvarying 
standard, by which we may at all times 
judge of the thoughts and intentions of 
God in his dealings with men. Natural 
theology, therefore, becomes almost neces- 
sarily rather a subject of metaphysical spe- 
culation than a system of practical prin- 
ciples. It marks the distinctions of right 
and wrong ; but it does not efficiently at- 
tach our love to what is right, nor our ab- 
horrence to what is wrong. We may fre- 
quently observe real serious devotedness, 
even amongst the professors of the most 
absurd superstitions ; but it would be diffi- 
cult to find a devoted natural religionist. 
The reason is, that these superstitions, 
though they have no relation to the true 
character of God, have yet some applicabi- 
lity to the natural constitution of man. 
Natural religion possesses the former qua- 
lification in much greater perfection than 
the latter. Under an impression of guilt, 
a man who has no other religious know- 
ledge than that which unassisted reason af- 
fords, must feel much perplexity and em- 



53 

barrassment. He believes that God is gra- 
cious ; but the wounds which he feels in his 
own conscience, and the misery which he 
sees around him, demonstrate also that God 
is of a most uncompromising purity. He 
knows not what to think ; and he is tempt- 
ed either to despair, or to turn his thoughts 
away entirely from so alarming a subject. 
All these conditions of mind — despair, 
thoughtlessness, and perplexity — are equal- 
ly adverse to the moral health of the soul, 
and are equally opposed to that zealous and 
cheerful obedience which springs from gra- 
titude for mercy and esteem for holy and 
generous worth. In such circumstances, 
the mind would naturally, in self-defence, 
contrive to lower its standard of moral duty 
down to the level of its own performances ; 
or would settle into a gloomy hostility to 
a lawgiver who requires more from it than 
it is disposed to render. It is in this form 
of weakness and perversion that we gene- 
rally see natural religion ; and we need not 
wonder at this melancholy phenomenon, 
when we consider that its principles con- 
sist in abstract conclusions of the intellect, 
which make no powerful appeal to the heart. 



54 

A single definite and intelligible action 
gives a vividness and power to the idea of 
that moral character which it exhibits, be- 
yond what could be conveyed by a multi- 
tude of abstract descriptions. Thus the ab- 
stract ideas of patriotism and integrity make 
but an uninteresting appearance, when con- 
trasted with the high spectacle of heroic 
worth which was exhibited in the conduct 
of Regulus, when, in the senate of his 
country, he raised his solitary voice against 
those humbling propositions of Carthage, 
which, if acquiesced in, would have restored 
him to liberty, and which, for that single 
reason, had almost gained an acquiescence; 
and then, unsubdued alike by the frantic 
entreaties of his family, the weeping soli- 
citations of the admiring citizens, and the 
appalling terrors of his threatened fate, he 
returned to Africa, rather than violate his 
duty to Rome and the sacredness of truth. 

In the same way, the abstract views of 
the Divine character, drawn from the ob- 
servation of nature, are in general rather 
visions of the intellect than efficient moral 
principles in the heart and conduct ; and 
however true they may be, are uninterest- 



55 

ing and unexciting, when compared with 
the vivid exhibition of them in a history of 
definite and intelligible action. 

To assist our weakness, therefore, and to 
accommodate his instructions to the prin- 
ciples of our nature, God has been pleased 
to present to us a most interesting series of 
actions, in which his moral character, as far 
as we are concerned, is fully and perspicu- 
ously embodied. In this narration, the most 
condescending and affecting and entreating 
kindness, is so wonderfully combined with 
the most spotless holiness, and the natural 
appeals which emanate from every part of it, 
to our esteem, our gratitude, our shame, and 
our interest, are so urgent and constrain- 
ing, that he who carries about with him 
the conviction of the truth and reality of 
this history, possesses in it a principle of 
mighty efficiency, which must subdue and 
harmonize his mind to the will of that 
Great Being whose character is there de- 
picted. 

The delineation of the character of an 
overruling authority, whatever that charac- 
ter may be, makes a strong appeal to the 
subjects, on the score of their interest : It 



56 

calls upon them, as they value their happi- 
ness,, to bring their own views into confor- 
mity with it. The appeal becomes more 
forcible and effectual, if the character which 
they are thus called on to contemplate be 
such a one as would naturally excite esteem 
and affection in an uninterested observer. 
But the weight of the appeal is infinitely 
increased, when this powerful and amiable 
Being is represented to them in the atti- 
tude of a benefactor, exerting this power 
and putting forth this character on their 
own peculiar behalf. 

It is thus that the character of God is 
represented in the New Testament ; and it 
is on these grounds that we are called on 
to love, to obey, and to imitate him. If 
God's character be in fact such as is there 
described, then those who reject the history 
in which this character is developed, shut 
themselves out from the opportunity of fa- 
miliarizing their minds to the Divine go- 
vernment, and of bringing their affections 
and their views to harmonize with it. 

There is a divine beauty and wisdom in 
the form in which God has chosen to com- 
municate the knowledge of his character, 



57 

which, when duly considered, can scarcely 
fail of exciting gratitude and admiration. 
The object of the gospel is to bring man 
into harmony with God : The subject of 
its operations, therefore, is the human heart 
in all its various conditions. It addresses 
the learned and the unlearned, the savage 
and the civilized, the decent and the pro- 
fligate ; and to all it speaks precisely the 
same language. What then is this univer- 
sal language ? It cannot be the language 
of metaphysical discussion, or what is call- 
ed abstract moral reasoning ; for this could 
be intelligible to few, and it could influence 
the characters of fewer. The principles 
which it addresses ought evidently to be 
such as are in a great measure independent 
of the extremes of cultivation and barbar- 
ism ; and, in point of fact, they are so. 
They are indeed the very principles which 
Mr Hume designates to be " a species of 
natural instincts, which no reasoning or 
process of the thought or understanding is 
able either to produce or to prevent." (In- 
quiry into Human Understanding, sect. v. 
part 1.) Its argument consists in a relation 
of facts : If these are really believed, the 
D 2 



58 

effect on the character necessarily follows. 
It presents a history of wondrous love, in 
order to excite gratitude ; of high and holy 
worth, to attract veneration and esteem: 
It presents a view of danger, to produce 
alarm ; of refuge, to confer peace and joy ; 
and of eternal glory, to animate hope. 



59 



SECTION III. 



The reasonableness of a religion seems to 
me to consist in there being a direct and 
natural connexion between a believing the 
doctrines which it inculcates, and a being 
formed by these to the character which it 
recommends. If the belief of the doctrines 
has no tendency to train the disciple in a 
more exact and more willing discharge of 
its moral obligations, there is evidently a 
very strong probability against the truth 
of that religion. In other words, the doc- 
trines ought to tally with the precepts, and 
to contain in their very substance some ur- 
gent motives for the performance of them ; 
because, if they are not of this description, 
they are of no use. What is the history 
of another world to me, unless it have some 
intelligible relation to my duties or happi- 
ness ? If we apply this standard to the va- 
rious religions which different nations have 
framed for themselves, we shall find very 



60 

little matter for approbation, and a great 
deal for pity and astonishment. The very 
states which have chiefly excelled in arts 
and literature and civil government, have 
failed here most lamentably. Their moral 
precepts might be very good ; but then 
these precepts had as much connexion with 
the history of astronomy as with the doc- 
trines of their religion. Which of the ad- 
ventures of Jupiter or Brama or Osiris 
could be urged as a powerful motive to 
excite a high moral feeling, or to produce 
a high moral action? The force of the 
moral precepts was rather lessened than 
increased by the facts of their mythology. 
In the religion of Mahomet there are many 
excellent precepts ; but it contains no il- 
lustration of the character of God, which 
has any particular tendency beyond or even 
equal to that of natural religion to enforce 
these precepts. Indeed, one of the most 
important doctrines which he taught, — 
viz. a future life beyond the grave, — from 
the shape which he gave to it, tended to 
counteract his moral precepts. He descri- 
bed it as a state of indulgence in sensual 
gratifications, which never cloyed the ap- 



61 

petite; and yet he preached temperance 
and self-denial. It is evident, that any 
self-restraint which is produced by the be- 
lief of this doctrine, must be merely ex- 
ternal; for the real principle of temper- 
ance could not be cherished by the hope of 
indulgence at a future period. The phi- 
losophical systems of theology are no less 
liable to the charge of absurdity than the 
popular superstitions. No one can read 
Cicero's work on the nature of the gods, 
without acknowledging the justice of the 
Apostle's sentence upon that class of rea- 
soners, — " professing themselves to be wise, 
they became fools." 

As the principles and feelings of our na- 
ture, which are addressed in religion, are 
precisely the same with those which are 
continually exercised in the affairs of this 
world, we may expect to find a resemblance 
between the doctrines of a true religion 
and the means and arguments by which a 
virtuous man acquires an influence over 
the characters and conduct of his fellow- 
creatures. When a man desires another 
to do any thing, that is the precept ; when 
he enforces it by any mode of persuasion, 



62 



that is the doctrine. When the Athe- 
nians were at war with the Heraclidse, it 
was declared by the Oracle, that the na- 
tion whose king died first should be vic- 
torious in the contest. As soon as this 
was known, Codrus disguised himself, went 
over to the camp of the enemy, and ex- 
posed himself there to a quarrel with a 
soldier, who killed him without knowing 
who he was. The Athenians sent to de- 
mand the body of their king ; which so 
alarmed the Heraclidae, from the recollec- 
tion of the Oracle, that they fled in disor- 
der. Now, let us suppose that Codrus wish- 
ed to inculcate the principle of patriotism 
in his countrymen. If he had merely is- 
sued a proclamation, commanding every ci- 
tizen to prefer the interest of his country 
to his own life, he would have been giving 
them a moral precept, but without a corre- 
sponding doctrine. If he had joined to this 
proclamation, the promise of honour and 
wealth as the rewards of obedience, he would 
have been adding a very powerful doctrine, 
yet nevertheless such a doctrine as must 
have led much more directly to patriotic 
conduct than to patriotic feeling and prin- 



63 

ciple. Vanity and avarice, without patrio- 
tism, might have gained those rewards : 
But if he wished to excite or to cherish 
the principle of patriotism in the hearts of 
his people, he chose the most eloquent and 
prevailing argument, when he sacrificed his 
life for them, and thus attracted their ad- 
miration and gratitude to that spirit which 
animated his breast, and their love to that 
country, of which he was at once the re- 
presentative and the ransom. 

It is indeed a striking and yet an unde- 
niable fact, that we are comparatively little 
affected by abstract truths in morality. The 
cry of a child will produce a greater move- 
ment, in almost any mind, than twenty 
pages of unanswerable reasoning. An in- 
stinctive acquaintance with this fact guides 
us in our dealings with our fellow-creatures; 
and He who formed the heart of man, has 
attested his revealed word, by showing his 
acquaintance with the channel through 
which persuasion and instruction might be 
most effectually communicated. It may 
therefore be useful to illustrate, at greater 
length, the analogy which exists between 
the persuasions of the gospel, and those 



64 



which might be fixed on as the most power- 
ful arguments capable of being addressed 
to any human feelings on the subject of 
human interests. 

Let us, then, present to ourselves a com- 
pany of men travelling along the sea-shore. 
One of them, better acquainted with the 
ground than the rest, warns them of quick- 
sands, and points out to them a landmark 
which indicated the position of a danger- 
ous pass. They, however, see no great rea- 
son for apprehension ; they are anxious to 
get forwards, and cannot resolve upon ma- 
king a considerable circuit in order to a- 
void what appears to them an imaginary 
evil : they reject his counsel, and proceed 
onwards. In these circumstances, what ar- 
gument ought he to use ? What mode of 
persuasion can we imagine fitted to fasten 
on their minds a strong conviction of the 
reality of their danger, and the disinter- 
ested benevolence of their adviser ? His 
words have been ineffectual ; he must try 
some other method ; he must act. And he 
does so ; for, seeing no other way of pre- 
vailing on them, he desires them to wait 
only a single moment, till they see the 



65 

truth of his warning confirmed by his fate. 
He goes before them ; he puts his, foot on 
the seemingly firm sand, and sinks to death, 
This eloquence is irresistible : He was the 
most active and vigorous amongst them ; . 
if any one could have extricated himself 
from the difficulty, it was he ; they are 
persuaded; they make the necessary cir- 
cuit, bitterly accusing themselves of the 
death of their generous companion ; and 
during their progress, as often as these 
landmarks occur, his nobleness and their 
own danger rise to their minds, and secure 
their safety. Rashness is now not peri- 
lous merely, — it is ungrateful ; it is ma- 
king void the death of their deliverer. 

To walk without God in the world, is 
to walk in sin ; and sin is the way of dan- 
ger. Men had been told this by their own 
consciences, and they had even partially 
and occasionally believed it ; but still they 
walked on. Common arguments had fail- 
ed ; the manifestations of the Divine cha- 
racter in creation and providence, and the 
testimony of conscience, had been in a great 
measure disregarded : It thus seemed ne- 
cessary, that a stronger appeal should be 



66 

made to their understanding and their feel- 
ings. The danger of sin must be more 
strikingly and unequivocally demonstrated; 
and the alarm excited by this demonstra- 
tion must be connected with a more kind- 
ly and generous principle, which may bind 
their affections to that God from whom 
they have wandered. But how is this to 
be done ; What more prevailing appeal can 
be made ? Must the Almighty Warner 
demonstrate the evil of sin, by undergoing 
its effects ? Must he prove the danger of 
sin, by exhibiting himself as a sufferer un- 
der its consequences ? Must he who knew 
no sin suffer as a sinner, that he might 
persuade men that sin is indeed an evil ? — 
It was even so. God became man, and 
dwelt amongst us. He himself encounter- 
ed the terrors of guilt, and bore its punish- 
ment ; and called on his careless creatures 
to consider and understand the evil of sin, 
by contemplating even its undeserved ef- 
fects on a being of perfect purity, who was 
over all, God blessed for ever. Could they 
hope to sustain that weight which had 
crushed the Son of God? Could they rush 
into that guilt and that danger against 



67 

which he had so pathetically warned them ? 
Could they refuse their hearts and their 
obedience to him who had proved himself 
so worthy of their confidence ? — especially 
when w r e consider that this great Benefac- 
tor is ever present, and sees the acceptance 
which this history of his compassion meets 
with in every breast, rejoicing in those 
whose spirits are purified by it, and still 
holding out the warning of his example to 
the most regardless. 

Ancient history tells us of a certain king 
who made a law against adultery, in which 
it was enacted that the offender should be 
punished by the loss of both eyes. The 
very first offender was his own son. The 
case was most distressing ; for the king was 
an affectionate father as well as a just ma- 
gistrate. After much deliberation and in- 
ward struggle, he finally commanded one of 
his own eyes to be pulled out and one of his 
son's. It is easier to conceive than to de- 
scribe what must have been the feelings of 
the son in these most affecting circum- 
stances. His offence would appear to him 
in a new light ; it would appear to him not 
simply as connected with painful conse* 



68 



quences to himself, but as the cause of a 
father's sufferings, and as an injury to a fa- 
ther's love. If the king had passed over 
the law altogether, in his son's favour, he 
would have exhibited no regard for justice, 
and he would have given a very inferior 
proof of affection. We measure affection 
by the sacrifice which it is prepared to 
make, and by the resistance which it over- 
comes. If the sacrifice had been made, and 
the resistance overcome secretly in the heart 
of the king, there could have been but little 
evidence of the real existence either of prin- 
ciple or of affection ; and the son might per- 
haps have had reason to think, that his par- 
don was as much the effect of his father's 
disregard of the law as of his affection to 
him ; and at any rate, even if he had given 
the fullest credit to the abstract justice and 
kindness which were combined in his ac- 
quittal, it is impossible that this theoretical 
character of his father could have wrought 
on his heart any impression half so ener- 
getic, or interesting, or overwhelming, as 
that which must have been produced by 
the simple and unequivocal and practical 
exhibition of worth which has been record- 



69 

ed. If we suppose that the happiness of 
the young man's life depended on the era- 
dication of this criminal propensity, it is 
not easy to imagine how the king could 
more wisely or more effectually have pro- 
moted this benevolent object. The action 
was not simply a correct representation of 
the king's character, — it also contained in 
itself an appeal most correctly adapted to 
the feelings of the criminal. It justified 
the king in the exercise of clemency ; it 
tranquillized the son's mind, as being a 
pledge of the reality and sincerity of his 
father's gracious purposes towards him; 
and it identified the object of his esteem 
with the object of his gratitude. Mere gra- 
titude, unattracted by an object of moral 
worth, could never have stamped an im- 
pression of moral worth on his character ; 
which was his father's ultimate design. 
We might suppose the existence of this 
same character without its producing such 
an action ; we might suppose a conflict of 
contending feelings to be carried on in the 
mind, without evidencing, in the conduct 
flowing from it, the full vehemence of the 
conflict, or defining the adjustment of the 



% 10 

contending feelings; but we cannot sup- 
pose any mode of conduct so admirably fit- 
ted to impress the stamp of the father's cha- 
racter on the mind of the son, or to asso- 
ciate the love of right and the abhorrence 
of wrong with the most powerful instincts 
of the heart. The old man not only wish- 
ed to act in perfect consistency with his 
own views of duty, but also to produce a 
salutary effect on the mind of his son ; and 
it is the full and effectual union of these 
two objects which forms the most beautiful 
and striking part of this remarkable his- 
tory. 

There is a singular resemblance between 
this moral exhibition and the communica- 
tion which God has been pleased to make 
of himself in the gospel. We cannot but 
love and admire the character of this ex- 
cellent prince, although we ourselves have 
no direct interest in it ; and shall we re- 
fuse our love and admiration to the King 
and Father of the human race, who, with 
a kindness and condescension unutterable, 
has, in calling his wandering children to 
return to duty and to happiness, presented 
to each of us a like aspect of tenderness 



n 

and purity, and made use of an argument 
which makes the most direct and irresisti* 
ble appeal to the most familiar and at the 
same time the most powerful principles in 
the heart of man ? 

In the gospel, God is represented in the 
combined character of a gracious parent and 
a just judge. His guilty children are ar- 
raigned before him and condemned : They 
have not only forfeited all claim to his fa- 
vour, by the breach of that fundamental 
law which binds all intelligent creatures to 
love and resemble their Creator ; but they 
have also by the same means contracted the 
disease of sin, and lost that mental health 
which can alone capacitate for spiritual en- 
joyment. Thus, the consistency of their 
Judge, and their own diseased condition, 
seemed equally to cover their futurity with 
a pall of the deepest mourning. This dis- 
ease constituted their punishment. Par- 
don, whilst this disease remained, was a 
mere name: Mercy, therefore, if at all com- 
municated, must be communicated in such 
a way as to heal this disease — in such a way 
as to associate sin with the abhorrence of 
the heart, and duty with the love of the 



72 

heart. The exhibition of the Divine cha* 
r&cter in this dispensation of mercy* must 
not only be consistent with its own excel- 
lence* but also suited to make an impres- 
sion on the reason and the feelings of the 
guilty. And it is so. The Judge himself 
bore the punishment of transgression, whilst 
he published an amnesty to the guilty, and 
thus asserted the authority and importance 
and worth of the law, by that very act which 
beamed forth love unspeakable, and display- 
ed a compassion which knew no obstacle 
but the unwillingness of the criminals to 
accept it. The Eternal Word became flesh ; 
and exhibited, in sufferings and in death, 
that combination of holiness and mercy, 
which if believed, must excite love, and if 
loved, must produce resemblance. 

A pardon without a sacrifice, could have 
made but a weak and obscure appeal to the 
understanding or the heart. It could not 
have demonstrated the evil of sin ; it could 
not have demonstrated the graciousness of 
God ; and therefore it could not have led 
men either to hate sin or to love God. If 
the punishment as well as the criminality 
of sin consists in an opposition to the cha- 



73 

racter of God, the fullest pardon must be 
perfectly useless, whilst this opposition re- 
mains in the heart ; and the substantial 
usefulness of the pardon will depend upon 
its being connected with such circumstances 
as may have a natural and powerful ten- 
dency to remove this opposition, and create 
a resemblance. The pardon of the gospel 
is connected with such circumstances ; for 
the sacrifice of Christ has associated sin with 
the blood of a benefactor, as well as with 
our ovm personal sufferings, — and obedience 
with the dying intreaty of a friend breath- 
ing out a tortured life for us, as well as 
with our own unending glory in his blessed 
society. This act, like that in the preced- 
ing illustration, justifies God as a lawgiver 
in dispensing mercy to the guilty ; it gives 
a pledge of the sincerity and reality of that 
mercy ; and, by associating principle with 
mercy, it identifies the object of gratitude 
with the object of esteem, in the heart of 
the sinner. It may also here be observed, 
that the resurrection and ascension of 
Christ, as the representative of our race, 
not only demonstrate the Divine compla- 
cency in the work of the Saviour, but ex- 

E 



74 

hibit to us also the indissoluble connexion 
which subsists between immortal glory and 
an entire unreserved acquiescence in the 
will of God ; and thus the Christian hope 
is not directed to an undefined ease and 
enjoyment in heaven, but to a defined and 
intelligible happiness springing from the 
more perfect exercise of those very prin- 
ciples of love to God and man, which 
formed the character of their Master, and 
still constitute his joy. 

The distinction of persons in the Divine 
nature, we cannot comprehend ; but we can 
easily comprehend the high and engaging 
morality of that character of God which is 
developed in the history of the New Tes- 
tament. God gave his equal and well-be- 
loved Son, to suffer in the stead of an apos- 
tate world ; and through this exhibition of 
awful justice, he publishes the fullest and 
freest pardon* He thus teaches us, that it 
forms no part of his scheme of mercy to dis- 
solve the eternal connexion between sin and 
misery. No ; this connexion stands sure ; 
and one of the chief objects of Divine re- 
velation is to convince men of this truth. 
And Justice does the work of Mercy, when 



7o 

it alarms us to a sense of danger, and sti- 
mulates us to flee from a continually-in- 
creasing wo. But the cross of Christ does 
not merely show the danger of sin ; it de- 
monstrates an unwearied compassion — a 
love unutterable, which extends its invita- 
tions and entreaties of reconciliation as wide 
as the ravages of sin, in order that by such 
an instance of self-sacrificing solicitude on 
the part of God for their welfare, men 
might be allured to the love of Him who 
had so loved them ; and that their grateful 
admiration having for its object the full 
perfections of the Divine character, might 
gradually carry them forward to an entire 
resemblance of it. 

Most men will have no hesitation to ad- 
mit the general proposition, that the moral 
character of God supposes the union of jus- 
tice and mercy in an infinite degree. Now, 
the gospel history simply gives an indivi- 
duality and a life to this general idea, in 
the same way that the old king's conduct 
towards his son gave an individuality and 
a life to the general idea of paternal affec- 
tion in union with a regard for the laws. 
Most men will also admit, that the conduct 



76 

of this good prince was suited not only to 
give a distinct view of his own principles, 
but also to stamp the character of these 
principles on the heart of his son. But the 
same causes operate in fitting the conduct 
of God, as declared in the gospel, for stamp- 
ing the character of its principles on the 
hearts of those who believe it. The old 
king was sensible, that the abstract idea of 
his justice and affection would have had 
but very little influence on his son's cha- 
racter ; and therefore it was the part of a 
wise and benevolent man to embody this 
abstract idea in a palpable action, which 
might make an intelligible and powerful 
appeal to his understanding and his heart. 
The abstract idea of God's character has 
still less influence on our minds ; because 
the invisible infinity of his essence adds in- 
calculably to the natural vagueness and in- 
efficiency of such impressions : It was there- 
fore the part of a wise and benevolent Be- 
ing to embody his attributes in a train of I 
palpable and intelligible action, which 
might carry a distinct and influential ap- 
peal to our capacities and feelings. If the 
ultimate object of God's dealings with men . 



77 

had been to pardon their sins, this might 
have been done without giving them any 
information on the subject until they stood 
before the judgment-seat : But if his gra- 
cious object was, as the Bible represents it, 
to make men partakers of his own happi- 
ness, by communicating to them his own 
moral likeness, it was necessary that such 
an exhibition of his moral character should 
be made to them, as might convey to their 
understandings a distinct idea of it, and 
might address to their feelings of gratitude 
and esteem and interest, such appropriate 
excitements and persuasives as might lead 
to a full resemblance of it. 



78 



SECTION IV. 



But many who admit the abstract charac- 
ter of God, feel notwithstanding a disposi- 
tion to reject the gospel history ; although 
its whole tenor is in perfect conformity with 
the general idea to which they have profes- 
sed their consent. This is natural, though 
unreasonable. It is probable that the old 
king's son was very much astonished when 
he learned the final determination as to the 
mode of executing the law in his case ; yet, 
if he had been asked before, what his opi- 
nion of his father's character was, it is like- 
ly that he would have answered with confi- 
dence, that he knew him to be a just prince 
and an affectionate father. Why, then, 
was he astonished ? Did not the fact agree 
with his previous judgment ? The only ex- 
planation is, that he did not comprehend 
the full meaning of his own expressions ; 
and when he saw the general idea which 
he had formed of his father's character em- 



79 

bodied in an action, he did not recognize it 
to be in fact the same thing. Many of those 
who reason on the character of God fall in- 
to a similar mistake : They admit his ab- 
solute moral perfections ; but when the ab- 
stract idea which they have formed of him 
takes life before their eyes, and assumes 
the body of an action, they start from 
it as if it were an utter stranger. And 
why ? — The only reason which can be given 
is, that the abstract idea which they talk 
about is so vague and indeterminate as 
to make no distinct impression on their 
minds. 

If a man really admitted, in truth and 
in intelligence, that abstract idea of God 
which he admits in words, he would find 
his reason compelled to believe a fact which 
is only an exemplification of that idea, nay 
the existence of which seems in some de- 
gree indispensable to the consistency of that 
idea. The admission of this abstract idea, 
and the rejection of the corresponding fact, 
are as inconsistent as to be convinced of the 
thorough liberality of a friend's character, 
and at the same time to reject as absurd 
and fanciful the history of a liberal action 



80 

said to have been performed by him when 
the occasion seemed actually to require it. 

There is another quality belonging to 
abstract ideas, arising from the vagueness 
of the impressions made by them, which 
recommends them to many minds ; and 
that is, their inoffensiveness. A corrupt 
politician, for instance, can speculate on 
and applaud the abstract idea of integrity; 
but when this abstract idea takes the form 
of a man and a course of action, it ceases 
to be that harmless and welcome visitor it 
used to be, and draws on itself the decided 
enmity of its former apparent friend. The 
fact is, that the man never really loved the 
abstract idea of integrity, else he must have 
loved every exemplification of it. We have 
thus an unequivocal test of a man's princi- 
ples. Bring the eloquent eulogist of mag- 
nanimity into a situation where he may be 
tried, — bring him in difficult circumstances 
into contact with a person of real magnani- 
mity, — and we shall see whether it was the 
thing or the name which he loved. 

In the same way, many men will admit 
the abstract idea of a God of infinite holi- 
ness and goodness ; and will even take de- 



81 

light in exercising their reason or their 
taste in speculating on the subject of his 
being and attributes ; yet these same per- 
sons will shrink with dislike and alarm from 
the living energy which this abstract idea 
assumes in the Bible. It is there no longer 
a harmless generality : It is a living Being, 
asserting one spiritual character and one 
class of principles in harmony with his own, 
disapproving and condemning every other, 
and casting the weight of omnipotence into 
his scale, to prove the vanity of all resist- 
ance. Those who feel oppressed by the vi- 
gilance and strictness of this ever-present 
witness, without being convinced of the 
importance of his friendship, are glad to 
retreat and to shroud themselves under the 
vagueness of an abstract idea. But in truth 
they do not believe nor love this abstract 
idea of God, else they would also believe 
and love the living character which cor- 
responds to it. The real conviction of the 
truth of the abstract idea would necessarily 
contain in it the conviction of the corre- 
sponding fact. 

These remarks may serve to illustrate 
the grounds on which a charge of moral 
E 2 



82 

guilt is brought by the Scriptures against 
unbelief. If a man cannot refuse his as- 
sent and approbation to an abstract prin- 
ciple in morals, why does he reject it when 
it loses its abstractness, and comes in a form 
of power and efficiency ? The principle con- 
tinues the same ; it has only assumed a more 
active attitude. In truth, he now rejects it 
because it is active, and because it strenu- 
ously opposes many of his favourite inclina- 
tions. He does not wish to be guided by 
what he knows to be right, but by what he 
feels to be agreeable. " He does not wish 
to retain God in his knowledge." He does 
not wish, at any risk or with any sacrifice, 
to do the will of God ; and therefore " he 
doth not know of the doctrine whether it 
be of God." Such an ignorance as this is 
criminal ; because it arises from a wilful 
stifling of conviction, and an aversion to 
admitted truths. 

It thus appears, that, by the help of ab- 
stract ideas and general terms, a man may 
appear to have made great progress in mo- 
rals, whilst in fact he has learned nothing. 
Things operate on our minds exactly ac- 
cording to our apprehension of them, and 



83 

not according to their own intrinsic value. 
Our apprehension of abstract truths in mo- 
rality is so vague, that they hardly operate 
on our characters at all. Does it not, then, 
approach almost to a demonstration, that if 
God really intended to improve the happi- 
ness and characters of men, by instructing 
them in the excellence of his own charac- 
ter, he would communicate this instruction, 
not in the form of abstract propositions and 
general terms, which are, by the construc- 
tion of the human mind, incapable of pro- 
ducing any real and lasting effect upon us, 
but by that way which coincides with our 
faculties of apprehension, — that is, by the 
w r ay of living and palpable actions, which 
may add the weight and distinctness of 
their own substance to those truths which 
they are intended to develop ? That men 
stand in need of such an improvement, is 
certain ; that a gracious Being should in* 
tend it, is surely not improbable ; and if 
he had such an intention, that some such 
scheme as Christianity should have been 
adopted, seems necessary to its success. 

At first sight, it may seem strange that 
a system evidently flowing from so much 



84 

goodness, tending to so much happiness, 
and constructed with so much wisdom, 
should in general be either rejected, or ad- 
mitted with an inattentive and therefore 
useless assent : But there are circumstances 
in the case which abundantly account for 
this. The Great Author of Christianity 
anticipated this rejection, and forewarned 
his disciples of it. His knowledge of the 
heart of man made him well acquainted 
with many causes which would operate 
against the reception of his doctrine. When 
Agis attempted to regenerate the diseased 
government of Sparta, he stirred up and 
armed against himself all the abuses and 
corruptions of the state. It would have 
been strange if this had not happened ; and 
it would also be strange, if a doctrine which 
tends to regenerate human nature, and to 
eradicate the deep-seated and yet favourite 
diseases of the heart, should not arm against 
itself all those moral evils which it threatens 
to destroy. 

A man finds no difficulty in giving his 
acquiescence to any proposition which does 
not carry along with it an obligation on 
him to something which he dislikes. The 



85 

great bulk of the population of this coun- 
try, for instance, acquiesce in the Coperni- 
can system of astronomy, although they 
may possess little or no knowledge of the 
mathematical or physical truths on which 
this system is reared. But let us make the 
supposition for a moment, that an acquies- 
cence in this theory somehow or other in- 
volved in it a moral obligation on every be- 
liever of it to walk round the world, we can- 
not doubt but that the party of Ptolemy, 
or some other less imperious philosopher, 
would, in these circumstances, very soon 
carry almost every voice. 

The religion of Jesus Christ involves in 
it a great variety of obligations ; and it was 
indeed principally for the purpose of eluci- 
dating and enforcing these obligations, that 
God was pleased to make it known to man- 
kind. And many of these obligations are 
so distasteful to the natural selfishness or 
indolence of our hearts, that we feel unwil- 
ling to embrace a conviction which involves 
in it so complete a derangement of our 
plans and a thwarting of our habitual in- 
clinations. Were the beautiful lineaments 
of the Christian character to be portrayed 



86 

in a theory which should disclaim all in- 
terference with the consciences and duties 
of the world, it would infallibly attract 
much intellectual and sentimental admira- 
tion : And were the high and holy charac- 
ter of God, and its universally-pervading 
influence, to be painted in glowing colours, 
— and were that unbounded liberty to be 
described, in which those spirits that are 
perfectly conformed to His will, must ex- 
patiate through all the vastness of creation 
and eternity, — were all this to be couched 
in the terms of a lofty imagination, without 
any appeal to the conscience, and without 
attempting to bring in this splendid vision 
to haunt our hours of carelessness or of 
crime, — who can doubt that taste and fancy 
and eloquence would pour in their convert- 
ed disciples within the engaging circle of 
such a religion ? And yet we find, that 
taste, and fancy, and eloquence, and high 
intellect, and fine sentiment, often reject 
Christianity : And the reason seems to be, 
because it is not a science merely, but a 
practical art, in which every part of know- 
ledge is connected with a corresponding 
duty. It does not present to us a beautiful 



87 

picture merely, — it commands us to copy 
it ; it does not merely hold forth to us the 
image of perfect virtue, — it declares to us 
also our own guilt, and denounces our 
condemnation ; it does not merely exhibit 
to us the sublime idea of a spiritual and 
universal sovereign, — it also calls upon us, 
by this very exhibition, under the most aw- 
ful sanctions of hope and fear, to humble 
ourselves before Him, and to look to Him 
as the rightful proprietor of our thoughts 
and words and actions. There is something 
in all this very harassing and unpleasing 
to our nature ; and the fact that it is so, 
may account for the real rejection that it 
generally meets with even amongst its no- 
minal friends, and may also operate as a 
warning against ascribing too much weight 
to that contempt or aversion which it some- 
times receives from those whose talents, 
when directed to other objects, we have 
been accustomed to follow with our admira- 
tion and gratitude. The proud man does 
not like to give up the triumph of superi- 
ority ; the vain man does not like to give 
up the real or fancied applause of the circle 
in which he moves ; the careless or worldly 



88 

or sensual man does not like to have himself 
continually watched and scrutinized by a 
witness who never sleeps, and who is of 
purer eyes than to behold iniquity. Now, 
as great talents are often to be found in 
men of such characters, we need not won- 
der that they employ these talents in de- 
fending the foundation on which their chief 
enjoyment is built, rather than in pursuit 
of a truth which, they are conscious, would 
level the whole fabric w T ith the ground. 
Men do not look very diligently for that 
which they would be sorry to find. 

It is difficult to persuade a careless pro- 
fligate to live a life of temperate and use- 
ful exertion ; because it is difficult to ob- 
tain from him a candid hearing on the sub- 
ject. He thinks exclusively of the grati- 
fications which he is called upon to re- 
nounce, and never allows his mind to rest 
calmly on the motives which would induce 
him to do so. Whilst he apprehends fully 
and distinctly the pleasures connected with 
his own habits, he has a very vague idea 
of the evils resulting from them, or of the 
advantages of an opposite course. If the 
latter apprehension were as vivid as the 



89 

former, the man's character would change, 
And there are arguments, and those of a 
mere worldly nature, which have often pro- 
duced this effect. All that is necessary to 
accomplish it, is a candid attention on his 
part to the whole truth of the case. There 
is in his mind, indeed, a natural opposi- 
tion to the argument ; but there is also in 
the argument a natural destructiveness of 
his faults ; and if it be vividly apprehend- 
ed and retained, it will gain the victory, 
and cast out its enemy. The argument, 
then, must, in the first place, be a suffi- 
cient one in itself; that is to say, it must 
show, that, in reason, the advantage gain- 
ed by complying with it exceeds the ad- 
vantage of rejecting it. And, in the se- 
cond place, this sufficient argument must 
be distinctly and fully apprehended. The 
best argument in the world is of no use, 
unless it be properly understood, and the 
motives which it holds forth be vividly ap- 
prehended. To a mind that does not dis- 
tinctly comprehend the subject, a good ar- 
gument will appear bad, and a bad one may 
appear good. We account, in this way, for 
the different success which the same argu- 



90 

ment meets with when it is addressed to a 
number of individuals. Some are moved 
by it — others are not ; that is to say, some 
fully apprehend it — others do not. And 
this may arise either from their misunder- 
standing the terms of the argument, or 
from their unwillingness to admit a prin- 
ciple which interferes with their own incli- 
nations. 

Thus it fares often with human argu- 
ments ; nor do the arguments of God escape 
a similar fate. We have already seen how 
the spirituality of the Christian require- 
ments naturally excites an unwillingness 
to admit its principles. This unwilling- 
ness can only be overcome by a full view 
of its glorious inducements. But, unfor- 
tunately, this view is often intercepted and 
obscured by various causes, and by none 
more than the usual way in which religion 
is studied. 

Most people in this country, and pro- 
bably even the majority of the population 
in Europe, think that they understand 
Christianity ; and yet a very small pro- 
portion of them have read the Bible with 
that degree of ordinary attention which 



91 

they bestow on the common concerns of 
life. Their ideas on this subject are deriv- 
ed almost entirely from creeds and church 
articles, or human compositions of some 
kind. The evil consequences arising from 
this are most grievous. To convince our- 
selves that they are indeed so to a high 
degree, we have only to compare the two 
methods. 

In the Bible, we uniformly find the doc- 
trines — even those that are generally con- 
sidered most abstruse — pressed upon us as 
demonstrations or evidences of some im- 
portant moral feature of the Divine mind* 
and as motives tending to produce in us 
some corresponding disposition in relation 
to God or man. This is perfectly reason- 
able. Our characters cannot but be in 
some degree affected, by what we believe 
to be the conduct and the will of the Al- 
mighty towards ourselves and the rest of 
our species. The history of this conduct, 
and this will, constitutes what are called 
the Christian doctrines. If, then, the dis- 
position, or character which we are urged 
to acquire, recommend itself to our reasons 
and consciences as right and agreeable to 



92 

the will of God, we cannot but approve 
that precept as morally true ; and if the 
doctrine by which it is enforced carries in 
it a distinct and natural tendency to pro- 
duce this disposition or character, then we 
feel ourselves compelled to admit that there 
is at least a moral truth in this doctrine. 
And if we find that the doctrine has not 
only this purely moral tendency, but that it 
is also most singularly adapted to assert 
and acquire a powerful influence over those 
principles in our nature to which it directs 
its appeal, then we must also pronounce 
that there is a natural truth in the doc- 
trine, — or, in other words, that however 
contradictory it may be to human practice, 
it has however a natural consistency with 
the regulating principles of the human 
mind. And farther, if the doctrine be not 
only true in morals and in its natural adap- 
tation to the mind of man, but if the fact 
which it records coincides also and harmo- 
nizes with that general idea of the Divine 
character which reason forms from the sug- 
gestions of conscience, and from an obser- 
vation of the works and ways of God in 
the external world, then we are bound to 



93 

acknowledge that this doctrine appears to 
be true in its relation to God. In the 
Bible, the Christian doctrines are always 
stated in this connexion : They stand as 
indications of the character of God, and as 
the exciting motives of a corresponding 
character in man. Forming thus the con- 
necting link between the character of the 
Creator and the creature, they possess a 
majesty which it is impossible to despise, 
and exhibit a form of consistency and truth 
which it is difficult to disbelieve. Such is 
Christianity in the Bible ; but in creeds 
and church articles it is far otherwise. 
These tests and summaries originated from 
the introduction of doctrinal errors and 
metaphysical speculations into religion ; 
and, in consequence of this, they are not 
so much intended to be the repositories of 
truth, as barriers against the encroachment 
of erroneous opinions. The doctrines con- 
tained in them therefore are not stated 
with any reference to their great object in 
the Bible, — the regeneration of the human 
heart, by the knowledge of the Divine cha- 
racter. They appear as detached proposi- 
tions, indicating no moral cause, and point- 



94 

tng to no moral effect. They do not look 
to God, on the one hand, as their source ; 
nor to man, on the other, as the object of 
their moral urgency. They appear like 
links severed from the chain to which they 
belonged ; and thus they lose all that evi- 
dence which arises from their consistency, 
and all that dignity which is connected with 
their high design. I do not talk of the 
propriety or impropriety of having church 
articles, but of the evils which spring from 
receiving impressions of religion exclusive- 
ly or chiefly from this source. 

I may instance the ordinary statement 
of the doctrine of the Trinity, as an illus- 
tration of what I mean. It seems diffi- 
cult to conceive that any man should read 
through the New Testament candidly and 
attentively, without being convinced that 
this doctrine is essential to and implied in 
every part of the system : But it is not so 
difficult to conceive, that although his mind 
is perfectly satisfied on this point, he may 
yet, if his religious knowledge is exclusive- 
ly derived from the Bible, feel a little sur- 
prised and staggered, when he for the first 
time reads the terms in which it is announ- 



m 

ced in the articles and confessions of all 
Protestant churches. In these summaries^ 
the doctrine in question is stated by itself, 
divested of all its scriptural accompani- 
ments ; and is made to bear simply on the 
nature of the Divine essence, and the mys- 
terious fact of the existence of Three in 
One. It is evident that this fact, taken 
by itself, cannot in the smallest degree tend 
to develop the Divine character, and there- 
fore cannot make any moral impression on 
our minds. 

In the Bible, it assumes quite a diffe- 
rent shape ; it is there subservient to the 
manifestation of the moral character of 
God. The doctrine of God's combined 
justice and mercy in the redemption of sin- 
ners, and of his continued spiritual watch- 
fulness over the progress of truth through 
the world, and in each particular heart, 
could not have been communicated with- 
out it, so as to have been distinctly and 
vividly apprehended ; but it is never men- 
tioned except in connexion with these ob- 
jects ; nor is it ever taught as a separate 
subject of belief. There is a great and im- 
portant difference between these two modes 



96 

off statement. In the first, the doctrine 
stands as an isolated fact of a strange and 
unintelligible nature, and is apt even to 
suggest the idea that Christianity holds 
out a premium for believing improbabili- 
ties. In the other, it stands indissolubly 
united with an act of Divine holiness and 
compassion, which radiates to the heart an 
appeal of tenderness most intelligible in its 
nature and object, and most constraining in 
its influence. 

The abstract fact that there is a plura- 
lity in the unity of the Godhead, really 
makes no address either to our understand- 
ings, or our feelings, or our consciences. 
But the obscurity of the doctrine, as far as 
moral purposes are concerned, is dispelled, 
when it comes in such a form as this, — 
* God so loved the world, that he gave his 
only-begotten Son, that whosoever believ- 
eth in him might not perish, but have ever- 
lasting life. Or this, — " But the Com- 
forter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the 
Father will send in my name, he shall 
teach you all things." Our metaphysical 
ignorance of the Divine essence is not in- 
deed in the slightest degree removed by 



97 

this mode of stating the subject ; but our 
moral ignorance of the Divine character is 
enlightened; and that is the thing with 
which we have to do. We love or hate our 
fellow creatures — we are attracted to or re- 
pelled from them — in consequence of our 
acquaintance with their moral characters ; 
and w T e do not find ourselves barred from 
the exercise of these feelings, because the 
anatomical structure of their frames is un- 
known to us, or because the mysterious 
link which binds the soul to the body has 
baffled all investigation. The knowledge 
communicated by revelation is a moral 
knowledge, and it has been communicated 
in order to produce a moral effect upon our 
characters ; and a knowledge of the Divine 
essence would have as little bearing upon 
this object, as far as we can see, as a know- 
ledge of the elementary essence of matter. 
I shall give one example more of the 
mode in which the truth of God has been 
perverted by passing through the hands of 
men. The doctrine of the atonement 
through Jesus Christ, which is the corner- 
stone of Christianity, and to which all the 
other doctrines of revelation are subservient* 



98 

has had to encounter the misapprehension 
of the understanding as well as the pride 
of the heart. This pride is natural to man, 
and can only be overcome by the power of 
the truth ; but the misapprehension might 
be removed by the simple process of read- 
ing the Bible with attention ; because it 
has arisen from neglecting the record it- 
self, and taking our information from the 
discourses or the systems of men who have 
engrafted the metaphysical subtilties of the 
schools upon the unperplexed statement of 
the w 7 ord of God. In order to understand 
the facts of revelation, w r e must form a svs- 
tern to ourselves; but if any subtilty, of 
which the application is unintelligible to 
common sense, or uninfluential on conduct, 
enters into our system, we may be sure that 
it is a wrong one. The common-sense sys- 
tem of a religion consists in two connexions, 
— first, the connexion between the doctrines 
and the character of God which they exhi- 
bit ; and secondly, the connexion between 
these same doctrines and the character 
which they are intended to impress on the 
mind of man. When, therefore, we are 
considering a religious doctrine, our ques- 



99 

tions ought to be, first, What view does 
this doctrine give of the character of God, 
in relation to sinners ? And secondly, What 
influence is the belief of it calculated to 
exercise on the character of man ? Though 
I state the questions separately, my obser- 
vations on them cannot properly be kept 
entirely distinct The first of these ques- 
tions leads us to consider the atonement as 
an act necessarily resulting from and simply 
developing principles in the Divine mind, 
altogether independent of its effects on the 
hearts of those who are interested in it. 
The second leads us to consider the adap- 
tation of the history of the atonement, when 
believed, to the moral wants and capacities 
of the human mind. This last considera- 
tion opens a field of most interesting in- 
quiry, and the deeper we search into it, the 
stronger reasons shall we discover for admir- 
ation and gratitude, and the more thorough- 
ly shall we be convinced that this adapta- 
tion does not resemble the petty and pre- 
carious and temporizing adjustments of hu- 
man policy ; but that it is stamped with the 
uncounterfeited seal of the universal Ruler, 
and carries on it the traces of that same 



100 

mighty will, which has adapted the pro* 
perties of the great luminary of our system 
to the physical wants and capacities of the 
various tribes of being which inhabit the 
earth. Yet it must be remembered that 
this adaptation is only an evidence for the 
truth of the gospel, but that it does not 
constitute the gospel. The gospel consists 
in the proclamation of mercy through the 
sacrifice of Jesus Christ. This is the only 
true source of sanctity and peace and 
hope, — and if, instead of drinking from this 
fountain, we busy ourselves in tracing the 
course of the streams that flow from it, and 
in admiring the beauty and fertility of the 
country through which they run, we may 
indeed have a tasteful and sentimental re- 
lish for the organization of Christianity, but 
it will not be in us a well of water spring- 
ing up into everlasting life. Before we ad- 
mit the truth of a doctrine like the atone- 
ment, it is proper to contemplate it in all 
its consequences ; but after we have admit- 
ted it, we ought to give the first place in 
our thoughts to the doctrine itself, because 
our minds are usefully operated on, not by 
the thought of the consequences, but by 



101 

the contemplation of the doctrine. When 
an act of kindness has been done to us, our 
gratitude is excited by contemplating the 
kindness itself, not by investigating that 
law in our nature by which gratitude na- 
turally is produced by kindness. It is of 
great importance to remember this. We do 
not and cannot become Christians by think- 
ing of the Christian character, nor even by 
thinking of the adaptation of the Christian 
doctrines to produce that character, but by 
having our hearts impressed and imbued 
by the doctrines themselves. The doctrines 
are constituent parts of God's character and 
government, and they are revealed to us 
that we may be renewed in the spirit of 
our minds by the knowledge of them. 

The doctrine of the atonement is the 
great subject of revelation. God is repre- 
sented as delighting in it, as being glori- 
fied by it, and as being most fully mani- 
fested by it. All the other doctrines ra- 
diate from this as their centre. In sub- 
servience to it, the distinction in the unity 
of the Godhead has been revealed. It is 
described as the everlastingi;heme of praise 
and song amongst the blessed who surround 



102 

the throne of God. It is represented in 
language suitable to our capacities, as call- 
ing forth all the energies of omnipotence. 
And indeed when we come to consider 
what this great work was, we shall not 
wonder that even the inspired heralds of 
salvation faultered in the utterance of it. 
The human race had fallen off from their 
allegiance, they had turned away from God, 
their hearts chose what God abhorred, and 
despised what God honoured : They were 
the enemies of God, they had broken his 
law, which their own consciences acknow- 
ledged to be holy, just, and gracious, and 
had thus most righteously incurred the pe- 
nalty denounced against sin. Man had 
thus ruined himself, and the faithfulness 
of God seemed bound to make this ruin 
irretrievable. 

The design of the atonement was to 
make mercy towards this offcast race con- 
sistent with the honour and the holiness of 
the Divine government. To accomplish this 
gracious purpose, the Eternal Word, who 
was God, took on himself the nature of man, 
and as the elder brother and representative 
and champion of the guilty family, he so- 



103 

lemnly acknowledged the justice of the 
sentence pronounced against sin, and sub- 
mitted himself to its full weight of wo, in 
the stead of his adopted kindred. God's 
justice found rest here ; his law was mag- 
nified and made honourable. The human 
nature of the Saviour gave him a brother's 
right and interest in the human race, whilst 
his divine nature made his sacrifice avail- 
able, and invested the law, under which he 
had bowed himself, with a glory beyond 
what could have accrued to it from the pe- 
nal extinction of a universe. The two books 
of the Bible in which this subject is most 
minutely and methodically argued, viz. the 
epistles to the Romans and the Hebrews, 
commence with asserting most emphatical- 
ly both the perfect divinity and the perfect 
humanity of Jesus Christ. On this basis 
the reasoning is founded which demon- 
strates the universal sufficiency and the 
suitableness of the death of Christ as an 
atonement for the sins of men, or as a vin- 
dication of the justice of the Divine go- 
vernment in dispensing mercy to the guilt j. 
What a wonderful and awful and enliven- 
ing subject of contemplation this is ! God so 



104 

loved the world that he gave his only-be- 
gotten Son, that whosoever believeth on him 
might not perish, but have everlasting life. 
And the same God, that he might declare 
his abhorrence of sin in the very form and 
substance of his plan of mercy, sent forth 
this Son to make a propitiation through his 
Mood. This is the God with whom we have 
to do. This is his character, the Just God 
and yet the Saviour. There is an august- 
ness and a tenderness about this act, a depth 
and heighth and breadth and length of mo- 
ral worth and sanctity, which defies equally 
the full grasp of thought and of language ; 
but we can understand something of it, and 
therefore has it been revealed to us. But 
does it not mark in most fearful contrast, 
the difference which exists between the 
mind of God and the mind of man ? 
Whilst man is making a mock at sin, God 
descends from the throne of glory and takes 
on him the frailty of a creature, and dies 
as a creature the representative of sinners, 
before his holy nature can pronounce sin 
forgiven. It was to remove this difference 
that these glad-tidings have been preach- 
ed; and he that believes this history of 



105 

God, shall be like him, for in it he sees 
God as he is. In this wonderful transac- 
tion, mercy and truth meet together, righ- 
teousness and peace embrace each other. 
It was planned and executed, in order that 
God might be just whilst he justified the 
believer in Jesus. It proclaims glory to 
God in the highest, peace on earth and 
good-will to man. The new and divinely 
constituted Head of the human family has 
been raised from the dead, his sacrifice has 
been judicially accepted, and he has been 
crowned with immortality in his represen- 
tative character. This is the foundation 
on which sinners are invited to rest the 
interests of their souls for eternity. It is 
held up for their most scrutinizing inspec- 
tion, and they are urged to draw near and 
examine whether it be sufficient to bear 
their weight. They are asked, as it were, 
if they can discover a flaw in the fulness 
and sincerity and efficiency of that love 
which could prompt God to veil his majes- 
ty, and ally himself with our polluted race ; 
and assume an elder brother's interest in 
our welfare, and magnify the law which we 
had broken, by suffering its penalty in our 
F 2 



106 

room, and thus connect the Divine glory 
with the salvation of sinners. They are 
assured on the authority of God, that the 
blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin, and 
that there is no condemnation to those who 
believe on him. They have thus the de- 
claration of God, and the act of God, still 
more impressive and persuasive than his 
declaration, to engage their confidence, and 
to banish all doubts and suspicions from 
their breasts. As the Saviour expired on 
the cross, he said, " It is finished." The 
work of expiation was then accomplished ; 
and the history of that work comes forth in 
the form of a general address to the sons 
of men, " Return unto me, for I have re- 
deemed you ;" " Be ye reconciled to God." 
This is the fountain of the river of life, and 
over it are these words written, " Ho, every 
one that thirsteth come ye to the waters." 
It proclaims pardon for sin ; it is therefore 
quite suited for sinners. Jesus came not to 
call the righteous, but sinners to repent- 
ance ; he came to seek and to save that 
which was lost. He said this himself, and 
he said it whilst every possible variety and 
aggravation of guilt stood full in the view 



107 

of his omniscience. He said it whilst he 
was contemplating that cup of bitterness 
and amazement and death which he had 
engaged to drink, and which was mixed for 
him to this very end, that the chief of sin- 
ners might be welcomed to the water of life. 
What is that weight of guilt which can ex- 
clude from mercy ? The very thought is de- 
grading to the dignity of the sacrifice, and 
injurious to the holy love which appointed 
it, and to the unstained truth which has 
pronounced its all- sufficiency. Can we won- 
der, then, at the high-toned triumph which 
filled the soul of the Apostle Paul as he 
gazed on this glorious object, and saw r in it 
%he pledge that his sins, which were many, 
were forgiven him, and that the heart of 
his often outraged Master yearned upon, 
him, and that his own lot for eternity was 
bound up with the glorious eternity of his 
God ? " Who shall lay any thing to the 
charge of God's elect ? It is God that jus- 
tified, who is he that condemneth ? It is 
Christ that died, yea, rather that is risen 
again, who is even at the right hand of God, 
who also maketh intercession for us." 
But if the virtue and sufficiency of the 



108 

atonement be thus universal, why are not 
the benefits of it universally enjoyed ? Had 
the mere removal of an impending penalty, 
in consistency with justice, constituted the 
whole and the ultimate object of God in 
this great work, there would probably have 
been no difference nor individual peculiarity 
with respect to these benefits, nor should 
we have had such admonitions addressed to 
us as the following : " Many are called, but 
few are chosen ;" " work out your own sal- 
vation with fear and trembling ;" " do all 
diligence to make your calling and election 
sure." But Christ gave himself for us, not 
only to redeem us from the punishment 
due to iniquity, but also that he might pu- 
rify to himself a peculiar people zealous of 
good works. The subjects of his kingdom 
were to be those in whose hearts the truth 
dwelt, the great truth relating to the cha- 
racter of God. This truth was developed 
and exhibited in the atonement, — its bright 
rays were concentrated there ; and there- 
fore the intelligent belief of the atonement, 
was the most proper channel through which 
this divine light might enter the soul of 
man. It is this light alone which can chase 



109 

away the shades of moral darkness, and re- 
store life and spiritual vigour to the numbed 
and bewildered faculties. And therefore 
the benefits of the atonement are connected 
with a belief of the atonement. " He that 
believeth shall be saved ; he that believeth 
not shall be condemned/' When the iden- 
tity of unhappiness and moral darkness in 
an intelligent subject of God's government 
is fully understood, this connexion between 
belief and salvation, will appear to be not 
the appointment of a new enactment, but 
merely the renewed declaration of an esta- 
blished and necessary constitution. The 
truth concerning God's character is an im- 
mortal and glorious principle, developed and 
laid up in Jesus Christ ; and God imparts 
its immortality and glory to the spirits in 
which it dwells. This truth cannot dwell 
in us, except in so far as the work of Christ 
remains as a reality in our minds. We 
cannot enjoy the spiritual life and peace 
of the atonement, separated from the be- 
lieving remembrance of the atonement, as 
we cannot enjoy the light of the sun se- 
parated from the presence of the sun. It 
would be a foolish madness to think of 



110 

locking in the light by shutting our case- 
ments ; and it is no less foolish to dream 
of appropriating the peace of the gospel, 
whilst the great truth of the gospel is not 
in the eye of faith. In the Epistle to the 
Galatians,Vth.25th,StPaul says, if ye have 
your life from the gospel, (here called the 
Spirit), see that you walk in, i. e. keep 
close to, the gospel. When our hearts 
stray from the truth, we stray from that 
life which is contained in the truth. We 
cannot long continue or retain any moral 
impression on our minds separate from the 
object which is fitted to produce the im- 
pression. 

The man who sees in the atonement, a 
deliverance from ruin, and a pledge of im- 
mortal bliss, will rejoice in it, and in all 
the principles which it develops. " Let 
not the wise man," says the prophet, " glo- 
ry or rejoice in his wisdom, neither let the 
mighty man rejoice in his might, let not 
the rich man rejoice in his riches ; but let 
him that rejoiceth, rejoice in this, that he 
understandeth and knoweth me, that I am 
the Lord which exercise loving kindness, 
judgment, and righteousness in the earth ; 



Ill 

for in these things I delight, saith the 
Lord." He therefore who rejoices in the 
atonement, rejoices in that which delights 
the heart of God ; for here have his loving 
kindness, and his judgment, and his righte- 
ousness, been most fully and most glori- 
ously exercised. It is thus that the be- 
liever has communion with God through 
Jesus Christ, and it is thus that he be- 
comes conformed to his moral likeness. The 
same truth which gives peace, produces al- 
so holiness. What' a view does the cross 
of Christ give of the depravity of man, 
and of the guilt of sin ! And must not the 
abhorrence of it be increased tenfold, by 
the consideration that it has been commit- 
ted against the God of all grace and of all 
consolation ? A sense of our interest would 
keep us close to that Saviour, in whom our 
life is treasured up, if we needed such a 
motive to bind us to a Benefactor w T ho chose 
to bear the wrath of Omnipotence rather 
than that we should bear it. Shall we 
frustrate the designs of love by our own 
undoing, and trample on that sacred blood 
which was shed for us ? No ; if we believe 
in the atonement, we must love him who 



112 

made the atonement ; and if we love him, 
we shall enter into his views, we shall feel 
for the honour of God, we shall feel for the 
souls of men, we shall loath sin especially 
in our own hearts, we shall look forward 
with an earnestness of expectation to the 
period when the mystery of God shall be 
finished, and the spiritual temple comple- 
ted, and the Redeemer's triumph fulfilled. 
This hope we have as an anchor of the 
soul sure and stedfast ; it is fixed within 
the vail ; it looks to the atonement ; and 
whatever be the afflictions or the trials of 
life, it can still rejoice in that voice which 
whispers from the inner sanctuary, " Be of 
good cheer, it is I, be not afraid ;" it can 
still feel the force of that reasoning, " He 
that spared not his own Son, but gave him 
up for us all, how shall he not with him 
freely also give us all things ?" This hope 
maketh not ashamed, it will not and can- 
not disappoint, because it is founded on the 
character of that God who changeth not. 

It is thus that the faith of the gospel 
produces that revolution in the mind, which 
is called in Scripture conversion, or the new 
birth. A man naturally trusts to some- 



113 

thing within himself, to his prudence, or 
to his good fortune, or to his worth, or to 
his acquirements, or to what he has done 
well, or to his unfeigned sorrow for what 
he has done ill ; self, in one form or other 
more or less amiable, is the foundation of 
his hope, and by necessary consequence, 
self is ever present to his view, and becomes 
the ultimate object of his conduct, and the 
director and the former of his character. 
But when he believes and understands the 
truth of God as manifested in the atone- 
ment, to be the only foundation on which 
he can rest with safety, the only refuge 
from that ruin into which he has been led 
by the guidance of self, he will cast from 
him these perishing and fluctuating delu- 
sions, and he will repose his interests for 
time and for eternity on the love of him 
who bled for him, and on the faithfulness of 
him who is not a man that he should lie, nor 
the son of man that he should repent ; and 
resting thus on the character of God as the 
exclusive ground of his confidence, he will 
contemplate it as his ultimate object, he 
will cleave to it as his counseller and his 
guide, and will thus be gradually moulded 



114 

into its likeness. Thisibundation of hope 
continues the same through every stage of 
the Christian's progress. Though his growth 
in personal sanctity be the grand and bless- 
ed result of his faith, yet that sanctity can 
never become the ground of his confidence 
without throwing him back upon self, and 
separating him from God, and cutting off 
his supply from the living fountain of holi- 
ness, and thus unsanctifying him. But al- 
though personal sanctity can never become 
the foundation of hope, yet it will much 
strengthen our confidence in that founda- 
tion ; just as returning health strengthens 
the confidence of the patient in that medi- 
cine which he feels restoring him. 

It is a law of our moral constitution, that 
the foundation of our confidence becomes 
necessarily the mould of our characters. 
The principles developed in the atonement, 
are an assemblage of all that is lovely and 
noble and admirable in spiritual excellence. 
He, then, that truly and exclusively rests 
his hope on the atonement, becomes a par- 
taker of the character of God. The great 
argument for the truth of Christianity lies 
in the sanctifying influence of its doctrines ; 



115 

and, alas ! the great argument against it, 
lies in the unsanctified lives of its profes- 
sors. A false exhibition of Christianity is 
thus more pernicious and more hateful than 
professed infidelity. But false pretences are 
not confined to religion ; and that man is 
indeed a fool who throws away his soul be- 
cause another man is a hypocrite. The 
gospel claims and deserves an examination 
on its own merits, and well will it repay 
the candid examiner. It warns of a dan- 
ger, the reality of w T hich is inseparably con- 
nected with the admitted holiness of God, 
and the admitted sinfulness of man ; it dis- 
covers a refuge from this danger, which 
most beautifully harmonizes with all the 
Divine perfections ; and when that refuge 
is narrowly considered, it is found not only 
to be a place of safety, but to be the en- 
trance into a holy and blessed and glorious 
immortality. Like the Upas tree, it in- 
vites the weary and heavy laden to its 
shelter ; but, unlike the Upas tree, it dis- 
pels their languor, and restores their faint- 
ing spirits, and gives a new and a vigorous 
and an enlivening impulse to every organ of 
their debilitated frames ; its leaves are for 



116 

the healing of the nations, and its fruit is 
the bread of life. 

Let us now return to the questions with 
which we commenced these observations ; 
viz. What view does this doctrine give of 
the character of God? and, What influence 
is the belief of it fitted to exercise on the 
character of man? and let us, from the state- 
ment which has been given, draw out the an- 
swers. Love surpassing thought is certainly 
the prominent feature of that glorious char- 
acter which is exhibited to us in the atone- 
ment ; — but it is a love in perfect con- 
sistency with a holiness which cannot look 
upon iniquity, — it is the love of the al- 
mighty God, who has not exerted his om- 
nipotence in silencing or overstepping the 
claims of justice, but in meeting them 
and fulfilling them. It is a love — which 
sits enthroned on that mercy-seat which 
rests on eternal truth, — and whose very na- 
ture it is to hate all evil. The effect upon 
the character of man, produced by the be- 
lief of it, will be to love Him who first loved 
us, and to put the fullest confidence in his 
goodness and willingness to forgive — to as- 
sociate sin with the ideas both of the deepest 



117 

misery and the basest ingratitude — to ad* 
mire the unsearchable wisdom and the high 
principle which have combined the fullest 
mercy with the most uncompromising jus- 
tice — and to love all our fellow-creatures 
from the consideration that our common Fa- 
ther has taken such an interest in their wel* 
fare, and from the thought, that as we have 
been all shipwrecked in the same sea by the 
same wide-wasting tempest, so we are all in- 
vited by the same gracious voice to take re- 
fuge in the same haven of eternal rest. 

It might seem scarcely possible that this 
simple doctrine should be misapprehended ; 
and yet, from the unaccountable and most 
unfortunate propensity to look for religious 
information anywhere rather than in the 
Bible, it has been perverted in a variety of 
ways, according to the tempers of those who 
have speculated on it. It has been some- 
times so incautiously stated, as to give 
ground to cavillers for the charge that the 
Christian scheme represents God's attribute 
of justice as utterly at variance with every 
moral principle. The allegation has as- 
sumed a form somewhat resembling this* 
" that, according to Christianity, God in* 



118 

deed apportions to every instance and de- 
gree of transgression its proper punish- 
ment; but that, while he rigidly exacts 
this punishment, he is not much concerned 
whether the person who pays it be the 
real criminal or an innocent being, provid- 
ed only that it is a full equivalent ; nay, 
that he is under a strange necessity to can- 
cel guilt whenever this equivalent of pu- 
nishment is tendered to him by whatever 
hand. This perversion has arisen from 
the habit amongst some writers on religion 
of pressing too far the analogy between a 
crime and a pecuniary debt. It is not sur- 
prising, that any one who entertains such 
a view of the subject, should reject Chris- 
tianity as a revelation of the God of holi- 
ness and goodness. But this is not the 
view given in the Bible. The account 
which the Bible gives of the matter is this, 
" Herein is love, — not that we loved God, 
but that God loved us, and sent his Son to 
be a propitiation for our sins ;" and God 
set forth Jesus Christ, " to declare his 
righteousness." Any view of the doctrine 
which is inconsistent with this account, is 
a perversion of Scripture, for which the 



119 

perverters are themselves responsible, and 
not the Bible. The error consists in sepa- 
rating the actions of God from the inten* 
tion manifested in them towards men. 
Were such a view, however, of the Divine 
Being, as that which has been just mention* 
ed, actually and fully believed by any man 
of an ordinary construction of mind, it 
would assuredly produce very strange and 
very melancholy results. He would learn 
from it to consider the connexion between 
sin and misery, not as a necessary con- 
nexion, but as an arbitrary one, which 
might be dissolved, and had been dissolved 
by the authority of mere power. Thus he 
could not identify in his thoughts and feel- 
ings misery with sin, — which is one of the 
prominent lessons of the Bible. He could 
see nothing in the character of God either 
venerable or lovely. And even the restraint 
of fear would be removed by the idea, that 
a penalty had been already paid of greater 
price than any debt of crime which he had 
contracted, or could contract. His heart 
could find in this doctrine no constraining 
power urging him to the fulfilment of the 
great commandments of love to God and 



120 

$aan. In fact, this doctrine undermines 
the divinity of Christ as much as Socinian- 
ism, inasmuch as it makes a separation be- 
tween the views and character of the Father 
and those of the Son. 

There is another view of this doctrine* 
which, though less revolting to the feelings 
than that which 1 have just stated, is quite 
as inconsistent with reason. According to 
it, the atonement is a scheme by which 
God has mitigated the strict purity of his 
law ; so that those who live under the gos- 
pel are merely required to yield an imper- 
fect but sincere obedience, instead of that 
perfect obedience to which^hey were bound 
before they professed the faith of Christ. 
Now, let it be remembered, that the love of 
God with all the heart constitutes the sub- 
stance of the law which we are called on to 
obey ; and let it also be remembered, that 
the sacrifice of Christ was made not only as 
a vindication of God's justice in proclaim- 
ing pardon to the guilty, but also for the 
purpose of presenting to the human heart* 
an object most worthy, and most admirably 
tttted to attract all its love ; and then it 
will appear, that those who give this inter- 



121 

pretation 6f the doctrine, do in fact main- 
tain, that God dispenses with our giving 
him our full love, on condition that we are 
convinced that he deserves this full Jove at 
our hands. The whole end and scope of 
religion is lost sight of in this interpreta- 
tion. Christ gave himself for us, to re- 
deem us from all iniquity, and to purify 
to himself a peculiar people, zealous of 
good icorks. A perfect conformity to the 
will of God, is not only perfect obedience 
— it is also perfect happiness ; and that 
gracious Father who calls on his creatures 
to be holy as he is holy, calls on them, by 
the very same exhortation, to be happy as he 
is happy. To dispense with our obedience, 
is not mercy to us ; for it is in truth to dis- 
pense with our happiness. We are not re- 
ceived into the favour of God at all on the 
ground of our own deservings, but on the 
ground of the satisfaction made to Divine 
justice by the death of Christ as the repre- 
sentative of sinners ; and the belief of this 
mercy, by its natural operation, gradually 
subdues the heart to the love and the obe- 
dience of God. Perfect obedience, then, 
though it is required, and though it is in- 

G 



122 

dispensable to perfect happiness, is not the 
foundation of our hope for eternity : It is 
the object of our hope, not the foundation 
of it. We must be trained up to it by 
the faith of the gospel. It is never attain- 
ed here in its blessed fulness ; and there- 
fore perfect happiness is never attained: 
But the seed of it may be attained, and 
may take root in the heart ; and it has an 
eternity before it, to grow and flourish in. 
An imperfect but sincere obedience, will 
almost always mean in the human judg^ 
ment, that degree of obedience which it is 
convenient to pay; — and this degree is 
paid by all men. The real glory of Chris- 
tianity is thus extinguished, because the 
standard of moral duty is lowered. True 
humility can have no place in this system, 
because we limit our duty by our perform- 
ance. And gratitude for undeserved mercy 
is excluded, except that base gratitude 
which thanks God for permitting us to be 
unholy. God's mercy is a holy mercy : 
It pardons, but never sanctions imperfec- 
tion. 

There is another view of this subject, 
certainly not very uncommon amongst those 



123 

who call themselves Christians, which is as 
subversive of the principle and efficiency of 
the gospel, as either of those mentioned 
above. According to this scheme, it is sup- 
posed that our hope before God rests on & 
ground made up partly of our own obedi- 
ence, and partly of the atoning efficacy of 
Christ's sacrifice. The work of the Savi- 
our is thus made a supplement to the de- 
ficiencies of human merit ; and this sup- 
plement is conceived to be added as a sort 
of reward for diligent obedience. The de- 
cent, and orderly, and well-behaved mem- 
ber of society, is thus considered to have a 
just though an undefined claim to a parti- 
cipation in the benefits of the Redeemer's 
death, whilst the utterly abandoned and 
profligate is considered unworthy, in his 
present state, of approaching the cross of 
Christ, and is therefore recommended to 
reform, that he may bring himself into a 
condition which may entitle him to do this 
with a reasonable hope of acceptance. There 
is a looseness and a vagueness generally at- 
tached to the ideas of that class of nominal 
believers to which I refer, that makes it 
difficult to meet or to answer their theories ; 



124 

but I am sure that I may confidently ap- 
peal to many, whether the statement which 
has been given does not bear a very near 
resemblance to some views of the doctrine 
of the atonement with which they are well 
acquainted. 

The proper answer to these views, when 
held by one who really assents to the in- 
spiration of the Bible, is, that they are at 
direct variance with the Bible. Paul says 
that justification is declared to be of faith, 
for this very reason, that it might be gra- 
tuitous, and that all boasting on the part 
of man might be excluded, &c. ; " not by 
works of righteousness which we have done, 
but of his mercy he saved us." And when 
the Jews, who seemed to have prejudices 
closely allied to those which we are examin- 
ing, reproached Christ as the friend of pub- 
licans and sinners, he answered them, that 
his business was with sinners ; * that the 
whole needed not a physician, but they that 
were sick," and " that he came to seek and 
to save that which was lost." 

According to the revealed record, then, 
that combination of justice and of mercy 
which w r as manifested on the cross, is the 



125 

exclusive ground of hope before God, — and 
on this ground every one is invited to rest, 
in the character of a lost sinner, without 
delay, and without any fruitless and pre- 
sumptuous attempts to attain a previous 
worthiness. 

It may appear to some, that this is a 
question rather about words than things ; 
but, in fact, it goes to the very root of the 
Christian character. Is it not evident, that 
upon this system there can be no true hu- 
mility ? because, as we know that that por- 
tion of our hope which rests upon Christ is 
already fixed, and therefore not liable to 
change, our attention is naturally and ne- 
cessarily drawn almost entirely to the re- 
maining portion, which is to be made out 
by ourselves, and which is therefore liable 
to be changed. Our own doings and de- 
servings become thus the chief objects of 
our thought. And, let me ask, what are 
the moral impressions which such objects 
are fitted to make on the character ? If 
falsely viewed as really worthy titles to the 
favour of God, they can produce no impres- 
sions but those of self-conceit and self-con- 
fidence ; and if rightly and truly apprecia- 



U6 

ted, they can produce nothing but appre- 
hension or despair. The beauty of the 
Christian revelation consists in this, that 
the same object which gives peace to the 
conscience, produces contrition of heart, and 
is also the most powerful stimulant to holy 
and grateful obedience. The work of Christ 
is the sole ground of hope, and is therefore 
the chief object of thought ; and the im- 
pressions emanating from this object sum 
up the Christian character. If I might 
venture, on such a subject, to allude to the 
profane mythology of Greece, I think that 
an illustration of this might be drawn from 
the fabled contest between Hercules and 
Antaeus. Antaeus was the son of the earth, 
and whenever he touched the earth, fresh 
vigour was communicated to him. Those 
blows therefore which he sustained from his 
adversary, and which in other circumstances 
would have destroyed him, were to him the 
means of increasing his strength, because 
they brought him into nearer contact with 
the earth, which was the source of his 
strength. The ground on which he rested 
was the stimulus of his exertions. When 
the Christian has apprehensions for his 



127 

safety, he looks to the ground of his hope, 
and there he finds not only peace but vi- 
gour. 

But the whole of this erroneous view of 
the doctrine rests on a false notion with re- 
gard to the purpose of the gospel. The 
gospel addresses men as rebels diseased by 
sin, and already condemned. The salvation 
which it offers is most strikingly explained 
by the prophet Jeremiah, chap, xxxi.31, and 
three following verses. It consists in a 
spiritual character : " I will put my law m 
their inward parts, and write it in their 
hearts;" and the mighty instrument by 
which this effect is to be accomplished is 
pointed out in the end of the 34th verse, 
"for I will forgive their iniquity, and I 
will remember their sin no more." That 
is, the circumstances and the manner in 
which this pardon is to be proclaimed, shall 
attract the hearts of men to the love and 
the obedience of God. Salvation, then, 
means the holy love of God, — a holy obe- 
dience of heart, arising from a belief of that 
mercy which is proclaimed in the gospel. 
Salvation and obedience mean precisely the 
same thing ; and it is as absurd to say that a 



128 

man is saved by obedience, as to say, that 
a man is restored to health by getting well. 
We are not called on to obey, in order to 
obtain pardon ; but we are called on to be- 
lieve the proclamation of pardon, in order 
that we may obey. u The gospel is said to 
be the power of God unto salvation to every 
one that believeth ;" and why ? " Because 
God's method of justification is revealed in 
it to be by faith," Rom. i. 16, 17. I do 
believe that many preach a different doc- 
trine, from a notion that the true gospel 
offer of free unconditional pardon is unfa- 
vourable to practical obedience and holiness. 
But, in fact, there is nothing acknowledged 
by the Bible to be obedience or holiness 
which does not spring from the belief of 
this free, undeserved mercy. The attempt 
at obedience without this, is a most thank- 
less labour, — it is never successful — and 
even were it successful, it would be the 
obedience of the hand and not of the heart. 
It is as if w T e chose to move the index of a 
clock with the finger, instead of winding it 
up. The language of the gospel is, " You 
shall be ashamed and confounded, because 
I am pacified towards you for all your ini- 



129 

quities." This plan of pacification wrought 
out by God himself, is the great subject of 
the Bible ; and the proclamation of this 
free pardon is the preaching of the gospel ; 
and he who, in his system of teaching, 
does not hold this up in its proper pre- 
eminence, is not a preacher of the gospel 
of Christ. He lays aside that weapon of 
ethereal temper which God has chosen out 
of the armoury of heaven, and which he 
blessed and sanctified for the destruction 
of moral evil, and goes forth to encounter 
the powers of darkness without a single 
well-grounded hope of success. And I am 
confident — that this same doctrine of free 
grace, if it could be candidly viewed as a 
mere abstract question in moral science, 
would compel the approbation of a true 
philosopher, — and that the compromise or 
mutilation of it (which is less uncommon 
than the value of souls would lead us to de- 
sire) is not more opposed to the authority 
of the word of God, than it is to the prin- 
ciples of sound reason. 

This subject has been already illustrated 
by examples drawn from human life. I 
shall now therefore vary the view of it, by 
G 2 



ISO 

considering it in connexion with the rite 
of sacrifice. 

The same truth with regard to the cha- 
racter of God and the condition of man, 
which is so. fully developed in the New 
Testament, is exhibited also in the Old 
through an obscurer medium, — a medium 
of types and shadows and prophecy. When 
the Messiah was promised to our First Pa- 
rents, the memory and the principle of the 
promise were embodied in the institution 
of sacrifice. Sensible objects were neces- 
sary, in order to recal to the thoughts, and 
to explain to the understanding of man, the 
spiritual declarations of God. Under the 
Jewish economy, this institution was en- 
larged and diversified ; but still it pointed 
to the same fact, and illustrated the same 
principle. The fact was, the death of 
Christ for the sins of the world ; the prin- 
ciple was, that God is at once just and mer- 
ciful, and that these attributes of his na- 
ture are in joint and harmonious operation. 
Multitudes, probably both of the Jews and 
of those who lived before the Mosaic sys- 
tem, recognized in their sacrifices that fu- 
ture salvation which was to be wrought 



131 

out by the promised seed ; but a far greater 
number must be supposed to have stopped 
short at the rite, through want of spiritual 
discernment. When the prefigured fact 
was thus forgotten, let us consider whether 
the moral principle exhibited in the cere- 
mony might not still in some measure be 
understood, and affect the character of the 
devout worshipper. The full vindication of 
God's holiness, and of the truth of his de- 
nunciations against sin, could indeed rest 
only on the sacrifice of the Divine Saviour; 
but although those who saw this great thing 
through the types which partially obscured 
whilst they represented it, could alone re- 
ceive the full benefits of the institution, 
shall we think that those who did not enter 
into the spirit of prophecy, were entirely 
excluded from the operation of its princi- 
ple, and saw nothing of the Divine cha- 
racter manifested in it ? As the prosecu- 
tion of this inquiry may tend to throw 
greater light on some views which have 
been already given, I shall here consider 
the subject of sacrifice apart altogether 
from its prophetic import. This view of 
the matter simply regards those particulars 



132 

which rendered the rite of sacrifice a fit em- 
blem of the atonement of Christ. When 
God teaches by emblems, he chuses such 
emblems as are naturally calculated to im- 
press the principle of the antitype upon 
our minds. There is then a suitableness in 
animal sacrifices, to give some idea of that 
great truth which was so gloriously deve- 
loped in the work of the Saviour, when the 
fulness of time had arrived. Let us con- 
sider, then, wherein consists this suitable- 
ness. * What is the meaning of a sacrifice ? 
What is the purpose of killing a poor ani- 
mal, because a man has sinned ? Can it 
be supposed that a wise and good God will 
in reality make a transference of the guilt 
of the man to the head of the beast ? — 
Impossible ; and it is equally impossible to 
conceive that God should command his 
creatures to do a thing which they could 
not understand, and by which therefore 
their characters could not be benefited. 
The institution contained a great truth, 
exhibiting God's character, and affecting 
man's. The suppliant who came with his 
sacrifice before God, virtually said, " Thou 
hast appointed this rite as the form through 



133 

which thy mercy is declared to sinners; 
and it is indeed in thy mercy alone that I 
can hope, for I have deserved this death 
which I now inflict, as the just reward of 
my transgressions." Thus the mercy and 
the holiness of God were both kept in view 
by this rite ; and gratitude and penitence 
would be impressed to a certain degree on 
the characters of those whose hearts accom- 
panied their hands in the service. This is 
just an exhibition of the principle in na- 
tural religion, that God is gracious, and 
worthy of our highest love ; and that sin 
deserves punishment, and is connected with 
misery. Our gratitude, however, for for- 
giveness would be just in proportion to our 
apprehensions of the demerit of sin and 
the danger connected with it, and also to 
our idea of the interest which God took in 
our welfare. The death of an animal was 
the only measure of the guilt and danger 
of sin, which these sacrifices exhibited ; 
and forgiveness, which seems an easy thing 
where there is nothing to fear from the 
power of the offender, was the only measure 
of the interest which God had taken in our 
welfare. Thus, these sacrifices rather in- 



134 

culcated on the worshippers the danger and 
demerit of sin (and this in no very high de- 
gree), than the goodness of God. The ani- 
mal which was slain was the property of 
the suppliant ; and he might feel the loss 
of it to be a species of atoning penalty, as 
well as a typical representation of the guilt 
of sin, which would very much diminish 
his idea both of God's free mercy, and of 
the guilt of sin which could be so easily 
atoned. The sacrifice of a man would have 
furnished a greater measure of guilt ; but 
it could not have impressed on the mind 
any stronger conviction of the graciousness 
of God. If we ascend the scale of being, 
and suppose an incarnate angel to become 
the victim, the measure by which we may 
estimate the guilt of sin increases, to be 
sure, in a very high degree ; but still, there 
is nothing in such a sacrifice which speaks 
in unequivocal language of the exceeding 
goodness of God. Although the sufferings 
of the angel were considered to be perfectly 
voluntary, it would not alter the view of 
God's character : Our gratitude would in- 
deed be called forth by the goodness of 
the angel ; but forgiveness still would 



i 



135 

seem a cheap and easy thing on the part 
of God, whose creative fiat could call 
into existence millions of brighter spirits. 
That God in human nature should him- 
self become the victim, is a scheme which 
indeed outstrips all anticipation, and baffles 
the utmost stretch of our minds when we 
labour to form an idea of perfect benevo- 
lence and perfect holiness ; but yet it is 
the only scheme which can fully meet the 
double object of strongly attracting our 
love to God, and at the same time of deep- 
ly convincing us of the danger and base- 
ness and ingratitude of sin. This gives 
us a measure by which we may estimate 
both the Divine goodness and our own 
guilt. It is indeed an exhibition of " love 
which passeth knowledge." But yet, when 
the conscience comes to be fully enlighten- 
ed, nothing short of this marvellous exhi- 
bition can produce peace. When a man 
is once thoroughly convinced that sin con- 
sists in a choice of the heart different from 
the will of God, even although that choice 
does not vent itself in an external action, 
he must feel that he has accumulated, 
through the past days of his life, and that 



136 

he is still daily accumulating, a most fear- 
ful weight of guilt. A day of retribution 
approaches, and he must meet God face to 
face. A simple declaration of forgiveness 
on the part of God, would certainly in 
these circumstances be most comforting to 
him ; but still it would be difficult to per- 
suade him, that the Holy One who inha- 
biteth eternity, could look with kindness 
on a being so polluted and so opposite in 
every respect to himself in moral charac- 
ter. Until this persuasion takes hold of 
his mind, he can neither enjoy real peace, 
nor be animated with that grateful love 
which can alone lead to a more perfect obe- 
dience. The surpassing kindness and ten- 
derness demonstrated in the cross of Christ, 
and the full satisfaction there rendered to 
his violated law, when understood and be- 
lieved, must sweep away all doubts and 
fears with regard to God's disposition to- 
wards him, and must awaken in his heart 
that sentiment of grateful and reverential 
attachment which is the spiritual seed of 
the heavenly inheritance. " If, when we 
were enemies, we were reconciled to God 
by the death of his Son, much more being 



137 

reconciled, we shall be saved by his living 
love." 

It seems to me, that the Scriptural state- 
ment of this doctrine is in itself the best 
answer that can be made to Socinians. If 
Christ was only an inspired teacher, his 
death is of very small importance to us ; 
because it gives no demonstration of the 
kindness of God, and therefore can neither 
give peace to a troubled conscience, nor ex- 
cite grateful affection ; and also, because it 
gives no high measure of the guilt and 
danger of sin, and therefore cannot impress 
us strongly with a sense of its inherent ma- 
lignity. We thus lose the whole benefit of 
Christianity as a palpable exhibition of the 
Divine character, and are thrown back 
again on the inefficiency and vagueness of 
abstract principles. In this view, likewise, 
all those passages of Scripture in which our 
gratitude, our reverential esteem, and o*ir 
filial confidence, are so triumphantly chal- 
lenged on the ground of the death of Christ, 
become empty unmeaning words : For, if 
Christ was not God, there is no necessary 
or natural connexion between the belief of 
his death and the excitement of such senti- 



138 

ments in our hearts towards God ; while, 
on the supposition that he was God, the 
connexion is most distinct and unavoidable. 
In fact, if Jesus Christ was merely a man, the 
greatest part of the Bible is mere bombast, 
To a man who disbelieves the inspiration of 
the Bible, this of course is no argument. But 
surely he ought not, in a matter of such 
unspeakable importance, to reject a doctrine 
which may be true, without examining it 
in all its bearings. He ought not to take 
the account of it upon trust, when he has 
the record itself to apply to. He is right 
to reject an absurd statement ; but he is 
wrong to decide without investigation that 
this absurd statement is contained in the 
Bible. Let him consult the Bible, — let 
him consider what this doctrine declares 
of the character of God, — let him trace the 
natural effects of its belief on the character 
of man, — let him understand that it ex- 
pands our ideas of the Divine holiness by 
the very demonstration which attracts our 
love, that it quickens the sensitiveness of 
conscience by the very demonstration which 
gives peace to the conscience,— and he may 
continue to reject it ; but he will not deny 



139 

that there is a reasonableness in it — that it 
contains all the elements of a perfect doc- 
trine — that it is most glorifying to God 
and most suitable to man. To sum up my 
observations on this subject : The doctrine 
of the atonement, by the incarnation and 
death of Christ, is illustrative of the Divine 
mercy, and vindicative of the Divine holi- 
ness ; it is a foundation of hope before God, 
amply sufficient for the most guilty of men ; 
and it is fitted to implant in the vilest heart 
which will receive it, the principles of true 
penitence and true gratitude, of ardent at- 
tachment to the holy character of God, and 
of a cordial devotion to his will. 

The hallowed purpose of restoring men 
to the lost image of their Creator, is in fact 
the very soul and spirit of the Bible ; and 
whenever this object does not distinctly ap- 
pear, the whole system becomes dead and 
useless. In creeds and confessions this great 
purpose is not made to stand forth with its 
real prominency; its intimate connexion 
with the different articles of faith is not 
adverted to ; the point of the whole argu- 
ment is thus lost, and Christianity is mis- 
apprehended to be a mere list of mysterious 



140 

facts. One who understands the Bible may 
read them with profit, because his own mind 
may fill up the deficiencies, and when their 
statements are correct, they may assist in- 
quirers in certain stages, by bringing un- 
der their eye a concentrated view of all the 
points of Christian doctrine, and they may 
serve, according to their contents, either as 
public invitations to their communion, or as 
public warnings against it, and they may 
stand as doctrinal landmarks ; but they are 
not calculated to impress on the mind of a 
learner a vivid and useful apprehension of 
Christianity. The object in them is not to 
teach religion, but to defend it ; and whilst 
they keep their own place, they are benefi- 
cial. But any person who draws his know- 
ledge of the Christian doctrines exclusively 
or principally from such sources, must run 
considerable risk of losing the benefit of 
them, by overlooking their moral objects; 
and, in so doing, lie may be tempted to 
reject them altogether, because he will be 
blind to their strongest evidence, which 
consists in their perfect adaptation to these 
objects. The Bible is the only perfectly- 
pure source of Divine knowledge ; and the 



141 

man who is unacquainted with it, is in fact 
ignorant of the doctrines of Christianity, 
however well-read he may he in the schemes 
and systems and controversies which have 
been written on the subject. 

The habit of viewing the Christian doc- 
trines and the Christian character as two 
separate things, has a most pernicious ten- 
dency. A man who, in his scheme of Chris- 
tianity, says, " here are so many things to 
be believed, and here are so many to be 
done," has already made a fundamental 
mistake. The doctrines are the principles 
which must excite and animate the per- 
formance : They are the points from which 
the lines of conduct flow ; and as lines may 
be supposed to be formed by the progress 
of their points, or to be drawn out of their 
substance, so the line of Christian conduct 
is only formed by the progressive action of 
Christian principle, or is drawn out of its 
substance. 

The doctrines of revelation form a great 
spiritual mould, fitted by Divine wisdom 
for impressing the stamp of the Christian 
character on the minds that receive them. 
I shall here mention some of the leading 



142 

features of that character, as connected with 
the corresponding doctrines. 

The love of God is the radical principle 
of the Christian character ; and to implant 
this principle, is the grand object and the 
distinct tendency of the Christian doctrines* 
And it may be proper here to repeat an 
observation which has been already much 
insisted on, — that this love is not a vague 
affection for an ill-defined object, but a sen- 
timent of approbation and attachment to a 
distinctly-defined character. The Bible calls 
us to the exercise of this affection, by set- 
ting before us a history of the unspeakable 
mercy of God towards man. At first sight, 
it might seem impossible to conceive any 
way in which the mercy of God could be 
very strikingly or affectingly manifested 
towards his creatures. His omnipotence 
and unbounded sovereignty make every im- 
aginable gift cheap and easy to him. The 
pardon of the sins committed by such feeble 
worms, seems no great stretch of compas- 
sion in so great and so unassailable a mo* 
narch. God knew the heart of man. He 
knew that such would be his reasonings ; 
and he prepared a work of mercy, which 



143 

might in all points meet these conceptions, 
God so loved the world, that he gave his 
only-begotten Son for its salvation. His 
was not the benevolence which gives an un- 
missed mite out of a boundless store, — it 
was a self-sacrificing benevolence, which is 
but meagerly shadowed forth by any earth* 
ly comparison. We admire Codrus sacri- 
ficing his life for his country ; we admire 
the guide plunging into the quicksand to 
warn and save his companions ; we admire 
the father suffering the sentence of his own 
law in the stead of his son ; we admire Re- 
gulus submitting to voluntary torture for 
the glory of Rome : But the goodness of 
God, in becoming man, and suffering, the 
just for the unjust, that he might demon- 
strate to them the evil of sin, — -that he 
might attract their affections to his own 
character, and thus induce them to follow 
him in the way of happiness, — was a good- 
ness as much superior to any human good- 
ness, as God is above man, or as the eter* 
nal happiness of the soul is above this fleet* 
ing existence ; and, if believed, must ex* 
cite a proportionate degree of admiration 
and gratitude. 



144 

The active and cordial love of bur fellow- 
creatures is the second Christian duty. And 
can this sentiment be more powerfully im- 
pressed upon us, than by the fact, that 
Christ's blood was shed for them as well as 
for ourselves ; and by the consideration that 
this blood reproaches us with the basest in- 
gratitude, when we feel or act maliciously, 
or even slightingly, towards those in whom 
our heavenly Benefactor took so deep an 
interest? Under the sense of our Lord's 
continual presence, we shall endeavour to 
promote even their temporal welfare ; but, 
above all, we shall be earnest for the good 
of their souls, which he died to redeem. 

Christians are commanded to mortify the 
earthly and selfish passions of ambition and 
avarice and sensuality. Our Lord died 
that he might redeem its from such base 
thraldom, and allure us to the pure liberty 
of the sons of God. The lust of the flesh, 
the lust of the eye, and the pride of life, 
were in fact his murderers. If we love him, 
we must hate them : If we love our own 
peace, we must hate them ; for they sepa- 
rate the soul from the Prince of Peace. The 
happiness of eternity consists in a confor- 



145 

mity to the God of holiness ; and shall we 
spend our few days in confirming ourselves 
in habits directly opposed to him ? — No ; 
rather let us begin heaven below, by begin- 
ning to be holy. 

The gospel exhorts us to humility ; and 
deep humility, indeed, must be the* result 
of a true acquiescence in the judgment 
which God passed upon us when he con- 
demned his Son as the representative of 
our race. And when we think of what 
our Almighty Father hath done for us, 
our hearts must often convict us of the 
strange contrast which is exhibited betwixt 
our dealings with him and his dealings 
with us. 

We are commanded to be diligent in 
the duties of life, and to be patient under 
its sufferings. And, to enforce this precept, 
we are instructed that the minutest event 
of life is ordered by him who loved us and 
gave himself for us; and that all these 
events, how trifling or how calamitous soever 
they may appear, are yet necessary parts of 
a great plan of spiritual education, by which 
he trains his people to his own likeness, and 
fits them for their heavenly inheritance. 

H 



146 

He walked himself by the same road ; only 
it was rougher ; arid he hath shown us by 
his example, that the cross is a step to 
glory. 

The Scriptures teach, that the sentence 
of death falls upon all mankind, in conse- 
quence*of the transgression of the first in- 
dividual ; and that eternal life is bestowed 
on account of the perfect obedience of Je- 
sus Christ. The grand moral purpose for 
w T hich this doctrine is introduced, is to im- 
press upon our minds a sense of the punish-* 
ment due to transgression — of the exceed- 
ing opposition which exists between sin 
and happiness, and of the exceeding har- 
mony which subsists between perfect holi- 
ness and eternal glory. The death of a 
single individual could give no adequate 
manifestation of the pernicious nature of 
sin. Death appears sometimes rather as a 
blessing than an evil ; and in general no 
moral lesson is received from it, except the 
vanity of earthly things. But when a sin- 
gle offence is presented to us, and there is 
appended to it the extinction of a whole 
race as its legitimate consequence, we can- 
not evade the conviction of its inherent ma- 



147 

lignity. As the value of this lesson, if 
really received, infinitely overbalances in 
the accounts of eternity the loss of this 
brief mode of our existence, there can be no 
just ground of complaint against the great 
Disposer of all things. 

In the same way, the hope of eternal life 
through the obedience of Christ, suggests 
to us the idea of the strong love and appro- 
bation which God feels for moral perfection, 
and the indissoluble connexion in the nature 
of things between happiness and holiness. 

The Divine government in this respect 
is just a vivid expression of the great moral 
attribute of God, "that he loveth righteous- 
ness, and hateth iniquity." A simple par- 
don, bestowed without any accompanying 
circumstances, must have drawn some de- 
gree of gratitude from the criminal, if he 
knew his danger; and this would have 
been all : But when he views the perfect 
and holy obedience of a great benefactor as 
the ground of his pardon, he is induced to 
look with love and admiration towards that 
obedience which gained the Divine favour, 
as well as towards the friend who paid it. 
A feeling of humble and affectionate de- 



148 

pendence on the Saviour, a dread and ha* 
tred of sin, and a desire after holiness, are 
the natural fruits of the belief of this doc- 
trine. 

That plan of the Divine government by 
which God deals with men through a re- 
presentative, occupies an important place in 
revealed religion. In the observations which 
I have here made on this subject, as well 
as through the whole course of the Treatise, 
I have in a great measure confined my 
remarks to the direct connexion which sub- 
sists between the doctrines of the Bible, 
and the character which the belief of them 
is fitted to produce in the mind of man : 
And with this view, I have called the at- 
tention of the reader principally to the su- 
periority in real efficiency which palpable 
facts, as illustrative of moral principles, 
possess over a statement of the same prin- 
ciples when in an un embodied and abstract 
form : But I should be doing a real injury to 
the cause which I wish to advocate, were I to 
be the means of conducting any one to the 
conclusion, that Christianity is nothing 
more than a beautiful piece of moral me- 
chanism, or that its doctrines were mere 



149 

typical emblems of the moral principles in 
the Divine mind, well adapted to the un- 
derstandings and feelings of men. Sup- 
posing the history of Codrus to be true, he 
was under a moral necessity to act as he 
did, independently of any intention to in- 
fuse the spirit of patriotism into his coun- 
trymen ; and, supposing the Bible to be 
true, God was under the moral necessity 
of his own character, to act as he is there 
represented to have done. The acts there 
ascribed to him are real acts, not paraboli- 
cal pictures: They were not only fitted 
and intended to impress the minds of his 
creatures — they were also the necessary re- 
sults and the true vindications of his own 
character. This belief is inseparably con- 
nected with a belief of the reality of Christ's 
sufferings ; and if Christ's sufferings were 
not real, we may give up the Bible. These 
sufferings are the foundation of a Chris- 
tian's hope before God, not only because 
he sees in them a most marvellous proof of 
the Divine love, but also because he sees 
in them the sufferings of the representative 
of sinners. He sees the denunciations of 
the law fulfilled, and the bitter cup of in- 



150 

dignation allotted to apostacy drained to 
the very dregs ; and he thus perceives that 
God is just even when justifying the guilty ♦ 
The identity of the Judge and the victim 
dispels the misty ideas of blind vindictive- 
ness with which this scheme may some- 
times have been perversely enveloped ; and 
he approaches God with the humble yet 
confident assurance that he will favourably 
receive all who come to him in the name 
of Christ. Whilst he continues in this 
world, he will remember that the link which 
binds heaven and earth together is unbro- 
ken, and that his great representative does 
not in the midst of glory forget what he felt 
when he was a man of sorrows below. This 
relation to the Saviour will spiritualize the 
affections of the believer, and raise him 
above the afflictions of mortality ; and will 
produce in him a conformity to the charac- 
ter of Christ, which is another name for 
the happiness of heaven. 

I have hitherto been considering the 
Christian doctrines chiefly as facts embody- 
ing the principles of the Divine character ; 
but this spiritual union with the Saviour ; 
as the head and representative of his peon 



151 

pie, gives to his religion a deeper interest 
and a sublimer and more unearthly charac- 
ter than could be excited or expressed by 
the highest views of holy and gracious 
worth, even in its more glorious and most 
lovely operation. We know something of 
what his official employment is in the sanctu- 
ary above; we know something of his glory 
and of his joy. And shall we not, even in this 
vale of tears, endeavour to enter into his 
holy desires, and sympathize with his affec- 
tions, and triumph in his universal domi- 
nion ? — He once suffered for us — He now 
reigns for us. His people were once re- 
presented on the cross at Calvary, and they 
are now represented on the throne of Hea- 
ven. 

The doctrine of the Holy Spirit is also 
connected with most important moral con- 
sequences. He is represented as dictating 
originally the revealed word, and as still 
watching and assisting its progress. He 
is where the truth is, and he dwells in the 
hearts where it operates. The general 
idea of the omnipresence of God is chiefly 
connected with the belief of his providence 
and protection, his approving or condemn* 



152 

ing ; but the doctrine of the Spirit is con- 
nected in the minds of Christians simply 
with a belief of his accompanying and 
giving weight and authority to revealed 
truth. The truth becomes thus closely 
associated in their minds with a sense of 
the presence and the gracious solicitude of 
God. 

With regard to the mode of the opera- 
tion of the Holy Spirit on the human 
mind, the Bible says nothing ; — it simply 
testifies the fact. To this divine agent we 
are directed to apply, for the enlightening 
of the eyes of our understanding, for 
strength in the inner man, and for all the 
Christian qualities. These effects are in 
other places of Scripture referred to the 
influence of revealed truth itself. We are 
also told, that the Spirit takes of the things 
relating to Christ, and presents them to 
the soul. We may gather from this, that 
the Spirit never acts, except through the 
medium of the doctrines of the Bible. He 
uses them as instruments naturally fitted 
for the work. He does not produce the 
love of God, except by the instrumentality 
of that divine truth which testifies of the 



153 

moral excellency and kindness of God. 
He does not produce humility, but through 
the medium of that truth which declares 
the extent and spirituality of the require- 
ments of God's law. This doctrine, then, 
does not in the slightest degree invalidate 
the argument in favour of revelation, which 
has been deduced from the natural con- 
nexion between believing its doctrines and 
obeying its precepts. These doctrines would 
of themselves persuade and sanctify a spirit 
which was not by inclination opposed to 
their tendency. This divine agent does 
not excite feelings or emotions in the mind, 
independent of reason or an intelligible 
cause : The whole matter of the Bible is 
addressed to the reason, and its doctrines 
are intelligible causes of certain moral ef- 
fects on the characters of those who believe 
them. The Spirit of God brings these 
causes to act upon the mind with their na- 
tural innate power. This influence, then, 
is quite different from that inspiration by 
which prophets were enabled to declare fu- 
ture events. It is an influence which pro- 
bably can never be distinguished, in our 
consciousness, from the innate influence of 
H 2 



154 

argument or motive. A firm-minded man, 
unused to the melting mood, may on a 
particular occasion be moved and excited 
by a tale of wo far beyond his common 
state of feeling : His friends may wonder 
at an agitation so unusual ; they may ask 
him how this story has affected him more 
than other stories of a similar nature ; but 
he will not be able to give any other reason 
than what is contained in the distressing 
facts which he had been listening to. His 
greater susceptibility in this instance might 
have originated from some change in his 
bodily temperament, or from certain trains 
of thought which had previously been pas- 
sing through his mind : But these circum- 
stances did not make the impression ; they 
only made him more fit to receive the im- 
pression from an object which was naturally 
calculated to make it. The impression 
was entirely made by the story, — just as 
the impression upon wax is entirely made 
by the seal, although heat may be required 
to fit it for receiving the impression. 

I have used this illustration to show 
that the influence of the Spirit does not 
necessarily destroy, and is not necessarily 



155 

independent of, that natural relation of 
cause and effect which subsists between 
the doctrines taught and the moral charac- 
ter recommended by the Bible. 

When the prophet Elisha was surround- 
ed in Dothan by the Syrian army, he felt 
no fear, because he placed full confidence 
in the protection of God. But his servant 
was terrified by the appearance of inevit- 
able ruin. It pleased God, however, to de- 
liver him at once from his agitation and 
perplexity, even before he thought fit to 
remove the appearance of the danger. And 
how was this effected ? God opened the 
young man's eyes, and he saw and beheld 
the mountain was full of horses and cha- 
riots of fire round about Elisha. God here 
interposed miraculously, in order to calm 
the man's spirit. But mark the nature of 
the interposition ; God dealt with the man 
as a reasonable being, — he gave him ocu* 
lar demonstration of his safety. He did 
not work in his mind an unaccountable in- 
trepidity in the face of danger which he 
could not have explained, but discovered to 
him a fact, which, from the nature of the 
human mind, could not fail of dispelling 



156 

his fearful apprehensions. Had he given 
full credit to the assurances of his master, 
his mind would have been at peace with- 
out the interposition of this supernatural 
revelation. But although he acknowledged 
his master to be a prophet, yet he did not 
place that implicit reliance on his testimony 
which was sufficient to overcome the vio- 
lent excitement produced in his mind by 
the visible objects of terror which surround- 
ed him. When his eyes were opened, he 
saw and believed ; and this belief brought 
peace. It was not the miraculous inter- 
position abstractly, which produced this 
effect; it was the glorious army of guardian 
angels, miraculously unveiled to his eye, 
which inspired him with confidence, and 
enabled him to despise the Syrian power : 
If, instead of these friendly hosts, he had 
seen the angel whom David saw with a 
sword drawn over Jerusalem, the sight would 
only have increased his alarm. It is then 
the object believed, from whatever source 
the belief proceeds, whether from seeing or 
hearing, which operates on the mind. 

That the belief of the gospel is, in every 
instance, the work of the Holy Spirit, no 



157 

one who believes in the Bible can doubt ; 
and indeed this doctrine is the ground of 
the Christian's confidence that he shall con- 
tinue stedfast unto the end : But still it 
must be remembered, that it is not the su- 
pernatural agency itself abstractly, which 
gives Christian peace and Christian strength 
to the mind, but the history of the Sa- 
viour's work, which through this medium 
is spiritually revealed to it. The Lord open- 
ed the heart of Lvdia to attend to the 
things spoken by Paul. If our notions of 
divine influence lead us away from attend- 
ing to the things contained in the gospel, 
we are deluding ourselves. And on the 
other hand, if our mode of studying the 
Bible does not cultivate in us a conviction 
of our own weakness, and an habitual de- 
pendence on the operations of the Holy 
Spirit, we certainly do not belong to that 
society who are said to be " all taught of 
God," and have no spiritual discernment 
of the truth : When we study the doc- 
trines of revelation, we ought to study 
them in that connexion in which they stand 
in the Bible itself. They are not given to us 
for the purpose of exercising our faculties in 



158 

speculative discussion, but for practical use- 
fulness. The observance of this rule will 
save us from much perplexity, and many a 
thorny and agitating question. In theBible* 
this doctrine of Divine influence which we 
are now considering, is uniformly connected 
with the most explicit declarations, that mau 
is free to act, and responsible for his actions. 
Man's inability to obey God consists abso- 
lutely in his unwillingness, and is but ano- 
ther name for the greatest degree of this. 
There is nothing to prevent him from em- 
bracing the gospel, and walking in the ways 
of holiness, but his own opposite inclina- 
tions. "This is the condemnation, that light 
has come into the world, and men have loved 
darkness rather than lights because their 
deeds are evil," John iii. 19. It is worthy 
of remark, that our Lord makes this state- 
ment in that very conversation in which he 
insists on the necessity under which every 
individual lies of being spiritually born 
again, before he can enter the kingdom of 
God. In the gospel, sinners are called 
upon, not to be supernaturally influenced^ 
but to believe the Divine testimony. And 
the question at last will be, not by what 



159 

influence or arguments were you led to the 
Saviour, but, did you embrace bis offered 
salvation ? It is not very uncommon to hear 
religious persons speak of faith and holiness 
merely as evidences of a divine operation 
on the heart, and as valuable simply on 
this account. But such language is not 
borrowed from the Scriptures.. Here we 
find faith and holiness considered as quali- 
ties valuable in themselves, and as duties 
imperative on all to whom the message is 
published. " Repent (i. e. change your 
principles) and believe the gospel," is the 
substance of the first discourse preached, 
after the ascension of our Lord, to his very 
murderers. And this same exhortation is 
thrown loose upon the world, and when re- 
jected, is rejected wilfully and at the peril 
of the rejectors. The evidences for the gos- 
pel, both external and internal, are suited 
to the human faculties ; and so too is the 
substance of its contents. A sinner who 
admits its evidence, and who reads it with 
the attention which such an admission de- 
mands, and who finds in it peace to his 
conscience and good hope for eternity, 
through the great atonement, will assured- 



160 

ly, if he has indeed made this happy dis- 
covery, acknowledge, with humility and 
gratitude, the kindness of God in leading 
him out of darkness into this marvellous 
light ; and he will continue to look to that 
divine and unseen influence, which first 
stopped him in his downward course, for 
support and encouragement during the re- 
mainder of his pilgrimage. And he who 
is condemned for rejecting the gospel will 
be condemned on this ground, viz. that he 
might, as well as ought, to have done other- 
wise ; and that he has resisted the convic- 
tion both of his reason and conscience, 
which had testified against him. It is our 
duty and our privilege to look to the free 
offer of salvation, and the sufficiency of the 
atonement ; and we are wandering from 
the Bible, and from peace, and from piety, 
when we occupy our thoughts with such 
difficulties. 

But why was this doctrine revealed, and 
what benefit is to be derived from believing 
it ? What effect is the belief of it cal- 
culated to produce on our characters ; and 
what light does it throw on the character 
of God, or on the condition of man ? As 



161 

the work of the Spirit is to enlighten the 
eyes of our understanding with regard to 
divine truth, and to take of the things of 
Christ and show them to us, the belief of 
this doctrine of course includes the convic- 
tion, that we stand in need of this light, 
and that the inclination of our hearts na- 
turally leads us from the things of Christ, 
This conviction, if real, will humble us be- 
fore God, and excite us to a jealous vigi- 
lance over every motion of our minds. In 
this doctrine, also, God gives a manifesta- 
tion of his own character. He presents 
himself to his weak and ignorant creatures, 
as ready to meet all their wants, and sup- 
ply all their deficiencies ; and thus conde- 
scends to solicit their confidence. He pro- 
mises his Spirit to those who ask; and 
thus invites and stimulates them to hold 
frequent intercourse with himself by prayer. 
He declares his holy anxiety for the ad- 
vancement of the truth ; and thus attracts 
their attention and regard to it. 

When the arguments of the gospel alarm 
or confirm or comfort the mind, the Holy 
Spirit is present ; and the belief of this will 
unspeakably enforce the argument, — -just 



as we often find that the presence and voice 
of a friend will give weight to reasons which 
would be disregarded in his absence. If 
God thus offers us his spiritual presence 
and support through the medium of his 
truth, ought not we ever to carry about 
with us the remembrance and the love of 
the truth, that we may enjoy much of his 
presence and support ? If he is so watchful 
over the progress of Christian principle in 
the hearts of men, ought not we also to be 
watchful, lest we grieve him, and lest we 
lose the precious benefits of his instruct 
tions ? As the gospel confines the influence 
of the Spirit to the truths contained in the 
written word, there is nothing to fear from 
fanaticism. The Holy Spirit does not now 
reveal any thing new, but impresses what 
is already revealed, 



163 



SECTION V. 



It thus appears that the gospel is a great 
storehouse of medicines for the moral dis- 
eases of the human mind. It contains ar- 
guments most correctly fitted to act power^ 
fully on our reason and on our feelings ; 
and these arguments are in themselves na- 
turally destructive of moral evil. They give 
a life and a reality to the shadowy traits of 
natural religion ; they exhibit in a history 
of facts the abstract idea of the Divine 
character ; and thus they render that cha- 
racter intelligible to the comprehension* 
and impressive on the heart of man. And 
is there no need for this medicine ? If it 
be admitted that wickedness and misery 
reign in this world to a frightful extent, 
and that nothing is more common than a 
strange carelessness about our Creator, and 
a decided spirit of hostility to the holiness 
of his character, — if it be admitted that 
there prevails through the hearts of our sp$, 



164 

cies, a proud selfishness of disposition which 
looks with indifference on the happiness or 
misery of others, unless where interest or 
vanity makes the exception, — and that 
whilst we profess to believe in a future 
state, we yet think and act as if our expec- 
tations and desires never stretched beyond 
this scene of transitory existence, — if all 
this be admitted, surely it must also be ad- 
mitted that some remedy is most desirable. 
And when we consider that the root of all 
these evils is in the heart, — that the very 
first principles of our moral nature are cor- 
rupted, — that the current of our wills is 
different from that of God's, — and that 
whilst this difference continues, we must be 
unhappy, or, at best, most insecure of our 
enjoyment, in whatever region our lot of 
existence is cast, — the necessity of some 
powerful health-restoring antidote will ap- 
pear still more imperious. And can we 
think it improbable, that a gracious God 
would meet this necessity, and reveal this 
antidote ? We have advanced a consider- 
able step when we have admitted this pro- 
bability. And when w r e see a system such 
as Christianity, asserting to itself a divine 



165 



original — tending most distinctly to the 
eradication of moral evil — harmonizing so 
beautifully with the most enlightened views 
of the character of God, and adapted so 
wonderfully to the capacities of man, — does 
not the probability amount to an assurance 
that God has indeed made a movement to- 
wards man, and that such an antidote is 
indeed contained in the truth of the gos- 
pel? 

There are few minds darkened or hard- 
ened to such a degree, that they cannot dis- 
cern between moral good and evil. Hence 
it haj>pens, that the pure morality of the 
gospel is generally talked of with praise ; 
and this is all : They admire the dial-plate 
of the timepiece, and the accurate division 
of its circle ; whilst they altogether pass 
over that nice adjustment of springs and 
weights which give its regulated movement 
to the index : They see not the Divine 
wisdom of the doctrines, which can alone 
embody that pure morality in the charac- 
ters of those who receive them. 

Exactly from the same inadvertence, it 
is sometimes asked, " Why so urgent with 
these abstruse and mysterious doctrines? 



166 

tt is, to be sure, very decent and proper to 
believe them : But the character is the 
great point ; and if that be reformed, we 
need not care much about the means.'' 
These persons do not consider, that though 
it may be comparatively easy to restrain 
the more violent eruptions of those dispo- 
sitions which are mischievous to society, it 
is no easy matter to plant in the heart the 
love of God, which is the first and greatest 
moral precept of Christianity. They do 
not consider that the character is in the 
mind ; and that this character must receive 
its denomination of good or bad, according 
as it capacitates its possessor for happiness 
or misery, when in direct contact with the 
character of God. The obedience of the 
will and of the heart is required ; and this 
implies in it a love for those holy principles 
in which the rule of duty is founded. A 
mere knowledge of duty, even when joined 
with a desire to fulfil it, can never inspire 
this love. We cannot love any thing, by 
simply endeavouring to love it : In order 
to this, we must see somewhat in it which 
naturally attracts our affections. What- 
ever this somewhat may be, it constitutes 



167 

the doctrine which forms our characters oil 
that particular subject. This law holds in 
all such operations of the mind ; but most 
conspicuously does it hold where the natu- 
ral bent of the inclination takes an oppo- 
site course, — as in the case of Christian 
duty. Duty must be presented to our 
minds, as associated with circumstances 
which will call forth our love, — as associated 
with the impulses of esteem, of gratitude, 
and interest, — else we can never love it* 
These circumstances constitute the Chris* 
tian doctrines; and the reasonableness of con- 
tinually and closely urging them, is founded 
on that law of the human mind which has 
been alluded to. It is not easy to cast out 
pride and self-conceit from the heart, nor 
to look upon the distresses of life with a 
cheerful acquiescence in that sovereign will 
which appoints them. It is not easy for a 
mind which has been much engrossed by 
its outward relations to the visible system 
with which it is connected, to receive and 
retain a practical impression, that there is, 
throughout the universe, one great spiritu- 
al and invisible dominion, to which all these 
lesser systems are subservient, and in w r hich 



168 

tiiey are embraced ; and that these are but 
schools and training seminaries in which 
immortal spirits are placed, that they may 
learn to know and to do the will of God. 
It is not a mere knowledge of duty which 
will enable us to resist the noxious impres- 
sions which are continually emanating from 
the objects of our senses, and from the re- 
lations of life — to disregard the pressing 
temptations of ambition or indolence, of 
avarice or sensuality — to expel those worldly 
anxieties which corrode the soul — and to 
run the way of God's commandments, 
through difficulties and dangers, through 
evil report and good report. These things 
require a more energetic principle than the 
knowledge, even when conjoined with the 
approbation of what is right. The love of 
God must be rooted in the heart ; and this 
can only be accomplished by habitually 
viewing him in all the amiableness of his 
love and of his holiness. We must ac- 
quaint ourselves with God ; for it is the 
knowledge of his High character alone 
which can humble the pride of man, or 
throw light on the obscurities of his condi- 
tion here, or call forth that sentiment of 



169 

devoted love which will stamp the Divine 
image on his heart ; and it is a conformity 
to that character alone which can make us 
freemen of the universe, and secure to us 
tranquillity and joy in every region of crea- 
tion ; because this conformity of character 
is the living principle of union which per- 
vades and binds together the whole family 
of God, and capacitates the meanest of its 
members for partaking in the blessedness 
of their common Father. 

It should be observed, that when confor- 
mity to the Divine character is mentioned 
as the result of a belief of the Christian 
doctrine, it is very far from being meant 
that the conformity will be perfect, or that 
the character will be free from failings, or 
even considerable faults: All that is meant 
is, that the principle which will produpe a 
perfect conformity is there. Thus we may 
say that a child has a conformity to his 
father's will, if he is strongly attached to 
him, and is sincerely anxious to please him, 
although levity or passion may occasionally 
carry him off from his duty. This is only 
the budding- time of Christianity ; eternity 
is the clime in which the flower blows. If 



170 

it were perfected here, there would be no 
occasion for death, — this world would be 
heaven. 

When we talk of love towards an invi- 
sible being, we evidently mean love to the 
principles of his character. Love to God, 
therefore, implies a knowledge of his cha- 
racter ; and thus, if in our idea of God, we 
exclude his holiness and justice and purity, 
and then give our affection to the remain- 
ing fragments of his character, we do not 
in fact love God, but a creature of our own 
imagination. It is a love of the whole, 
which can alone produce a resemblance of 
the whole ; and nothing short of this love 
can produce such a resemblance. If this 
world bounded our existence, there would 
be little occasion for these heavenly views ; 
because the order of society can in general 
be tolerably preserved by human laws, and 
the restraint of human opinion ; and for 
the few years which we have to pass here, 
this is sufficient ; But if we are placed here 
to become fitted for eternity, we must know 
God, and love him, in order that we may 
have pleasure in his presence, and in the 
manifestations of his will. 



171 

There is an important part of the sub- 
ject still untouched, which is intimately 
connected with the principle of the prece- 
ding argument, and is most deserving of a 
full and minute consideration : I mean the 
harmony which subsists between the views 
of the Bible, and that system of events 
which is moving on around us. On this 
point, however, I shall only make a very 
few general observations. 

If we look on this world as a school in 
which the principles of the Bible are incul- 
cated and exercised, we shall find that the 
whole apparatus is admirably fitted for the 
purpose. As adventures of danger are 
adapted to exercise and confirm the prin- 
ciple of intrepidity, so the varied events of 
life are adapted to exercise and confirm the 
principles of the Christian character. The 
history of the world, and our own experi- 
ence of it, present to us as it were a scene 
of shifting sand, without a single point on 
which we may reasonably rest the full 
weight of our hopes with perfect confidence. 
The gospel presents to us, on the other 
hand, the unchangeable character of God, 
and invites us to rest there* The object 



172 

of our hope becomes the mould of our char- 
acters ; and happiness consists in a charac- 
ter conformed to that of God. But there 
is a constant tendency in our minds to oc- 
cupy themselves with the uncertain and 
unsatisfactory things which are seen, to the 
exclusion of that secure good which is un- 
seen. Pain, disappointment, and death, 
are therefore sent to awaken us to reflection, 
— to warn us against reposing on a shadow, 
which will stamp on us its own corruptible 
and fleeting likeness, — and to invite us to 
fix our feet on that substantial rock which 
cannot fail. The happiness which God in- 
tends for men (according to the Bible) con- 
sists in a particular form of character ; and 
that character can only be wrought out by 
trials and difficulties and afflictions. If 
this w r ere practically remembered, it would 
associate in our minds the sorrows of life 
with solid happiness and future glory. 
Every event, of whatever description it be, 
would appear to us as an opportunity of 
exercising and strengthening some princi- 
ple which contains in itself the elements of 
happiness. This consideration would swal- 
low up, or at least very much abate, the de- 



173 

jection or exultation which the external 
form of the event is calculated to excite, 
and produce cheerful and composed acqui- 
escence in the appointments of Providence. 
" In every thing give thanks ; for this 
(event, whether prosperous or adverse) is 
the will of God in Christ Jesus towards 
you." It forms a part of that system of 
wisdom and love, of which the gift of Christ 
is the prominent feature and the great spe- 
cimen. Christ was given to bring men 
near to God, and every part of the system 
of Providence is ordered with the same de- 
sign. The Captain of our Salvation was 
" a man of sorrows, and acquainted with 
griefs ;" and whilst his wisdom appoints 
the medicinal sorrow, his heart sympathizes 
with the sufferer. His sufferings were not 
only endured in satisfaction of Divine jus- 
tice, — they also serve as a pattern of the 
way by which God leads those real sinners 
whom the sinless Saviour represented, unto 
holiness. When two of his disciples asked 
him for the chief places in his kingdom, 
the nature of which they had much mis- 
taken, he answered them, " Can ye drink 
of the cup which I drink of, and can ye be 



174 

baptised with the baptism which I am bap- 
tised with?" — thus teaching, that as his 
own way to glory lay through sorrows, so 
theirs did also. His road and his glory 
were the patterns of theirs. Not that hap- 
piness and glory are given as an arbitrary 
premium for having suffered, but that the 
character which has been most exercised 
and refined by affliction contains a greater 
proportion of the constituent elements of 
happiness and glory. Neither are we to 
suppose that afflictions necessarily produce 
this character : Indeed, the effect in many 
cases is the very reverse. But afflictions 
are important opportunities of acquiring 
and growing in this character ; which, as 
they cannot be neglected without danger, 
so they cannot be improved according to the 
directions of the gospel without leading to 
a blessed result. The continual presence 
of God watching over the progress of his 
own work, and observing the spirit in which 
his creatures receive their appointed trials, 
is a great truth, which, if believed and re- 
membered, would both excite to cheerful 
and grateful action, and would comfort un- 
der any sorrow. 



175 

Every event affords opportunities of ex- 
ercising love to God or man, humility or 
heavenly-mindedness; and thus every event 
may be made a step towards heaven : So 
that, if we were asked what sort of a thea- 
tre the principles of the gospel required for 
its effectual operation on a being like man, 
it would be impossible to devise any which 
would appear even to our reason so suitable 
as the world which we see around us. Were 
the gospel different, or were man different, 
another theatre might be better; but whilst 
the human heart remains as it is, we re- 
quire just such a process as that which is 
carried on here, for working the principles 
of the gospel into our moral constitutions. 
We know, besides, that the Christian cha- 
racter is adapted to the events of life ; be- 
cause it w r ould produce happiness under 
those events, whatever they might be. 
Thus it appears, that the heart of man, 
the Bible, and the course of Providence, 
have a mutual adaptation to each other ; 
and hence we may conclude, that they pro- 
ceed from the same source, — we may con- 
clude, that the same God who made man, 
and encompassed him with the trials of 



life, gave the Bible to instruct him how 
these trials might be made subservient to 
his eternal happiness. 

The world then is a theatre for exercising 
and strengthening principles. Its events 
operate on the moral seeds in the human 
mind, as the elements of nature, heat, 
moisture, and air, do on vegetable seeds. 
They develop their qualities, they foster 
them into life and energy, they bring forth 
into full display all their capacities of evil 
and good — but they do the same office to 
poisonous and useless seeds as to the most 
excellent. How careful then ought we to be 
that the moral principles of our minds 
should be of the right kind! Poisonous 
plants are native to this soil, whilst the 
immortal seed of divine truth is an exotic, 
from a more genial clime. But if this 
course of discipline be so necessary, for the 
growth and conformation of the truth in 
the heart, then the gospel may appear to 
be exclusively addressed to those who have 
a series of years and exercises before them. 
In what form can it approach a deathbed ? 
What has the Bible to say to a man within 
an hour of eternity, who has either never 



177 

heard, or never attended, to the message of 
peace ? In fact, it speaks the same language 
to him that it does to the youth just enter- 
ing on the career of life — the same glad 
tidings are proclaimed to sinners of all ages 
— of all conditions, and in all circumstan- 
ces ; " This is the testimony that God hath 
given to us eternal life, and this life is in 
his Son." — Although happiness is neces- 
sarily connected with, or more properly is 
identical with, that holiness which the be- 
lief of the truth induces ; yet pardon and 
acceptance are not the consequences of a 
change of character, they are the free gift 
of God, through Jesus Christ; and that 
they are so, enters into the very substance 
of that record which w T e are called on to 
believe, as the testimony of God. 

The judicial sentence against sin has 
been executed, and the honour of the di- 
vine law has been vindicated, by a deed of 
unutterable love, which claims from men 
the most grateful and reposing confidence 
in the reality of that mercy, and the in- 
violableness of that truth, which, amidst 
the agonies of death, declared the work of 

reconciliation accomplished. The belief of 
12 



178 

this transaction, if full and perfect, would 
at once, and instantaneously, change the 
heart into a conformity with the will of 
God, which is the character of heaven, 
without which heaven could be no place of 
happiness. It is the weakness, the defi- 
ciency, and unsettledness of this belief, 
which makes the transformation of the 
heart, in general, so tardy a process. The 
tardiness does not, however, belong to the 
nature of the truth, but to the mode of its 
reception. And that Spirit, which is mighty 
in operation, can open the spiritual eye at 
the last moment to perceive the excellency 
of the Saviour, and thus cause the young 
germ of glory to burst forth at once into 
full and vigorous life. 

Very sudden and unexpected changes of 
character do sometimes take place in the 
history of this world's moralities ; and it 
may perhaps assist our conception, to ad- 
duce an example of this kind in illustration 
of that higher and more important change 
which we are at present considering. Mr 
Foster, in his " Essay on Decision of Cha- 
racter," gives an account of a man who, 
from being a perfect prodigal, became all at 



179 

once a most beggarly miser. Whilst yet 
a boy he had come to the possession of a 
large fortune, and before he was of age he 
contrived to get rid of it by a course of the 
most profligate extravagance. After his 
last shilling was gone, his spirits fell, and 
he went out with the thought of putting 
an end to his life. Providence directed 
him to the top of an eminence, from which 
he could survey every acre which he had so 
foolishly squandered. Here he sat down, 
and in bitterness of heart contrasted his 
former splendour with his present wretch- 
edness. As he viewed his past life, the 
absurdity of his conduct appeared to him 
so glaring, and want appeared so frightful, 
that he was filled with a loathing for every 
thing like expense. He instantly formed 
the resolution of retracing his steps, and 
recovering his possessions. He descended 
the hill a thorough miser, and continued 
so to his death. The principle of penuri- 
ous and greedy saving had expelled its op- 
posite, and taken firm hold of his soul ; his 
character was entirely changed, and his fu- 
ture life was only a development of the feel- 
ing acquired in that moment. 



180 

Now, though the change from one mode 
of selfishness to another, as in this instance, 
is a very different thing from the conversion 
of the heart to God ; yet as the change of 
character in both cases arises from a real 
change in the conviction of the mind as to 
what is truly good, (from whatever sources 
of influence these convictions may proceed, 
whether earthly, as in the one case, or hea- 
venly, as in the other,) 1 consider myself 
entitled to use this analogy as an argument 
against those who either ridicule sudden 
conversions as absurd fables, or who confine 
such events to the miraculous period of 
Christianity. Is it rational to suppose, 
that a conviction of the love of God— of 
the vastness of eternity — of the glory of 
heaven — of the misery of hell, should be 
insufficient to produce an instantaneous 
change of no light nature, when we see so 
striking a change produced by the compara- 
tive prospect of wealth or poverty for a few 
uncertain years ? Shall we suppose that the 
Spirit of God hath less power than the 
spirit of Mammon? or, Does it belong only 
to things which pass away, to exert a sove- 
reignty over the springs of the mind ? And 



181 

are things which abide for ever, to be alone 
considered as powerless and inefficient? 
Could w r e imagine such a thing as a para- 
dise for misers under the government of a 
God, who giveth to all men liberally and 
upbraideth not, we might safely say, that 
if the young man, whose history w r e have 
been contemplating, had dropped down dead 
as he descended from the eminence which 
had witnessed his resolution, he would have 
been fit for a situation there. Nor would 
his former conduct have debarred him from 
the full enjoyment of its delights. So 
when the pardoning mercy of God is per- 
ceived in its glory and its beauty, it capa- 
citates the mind immediately, however dark 
and vile before, for that bliss which it so 
freely bestows, and girds and prepares the 
parting traveller for that everlasting king- 
dom of our Lord and Saviour, an entrance 
into which it so abundantly ministers, even 
though this may be the first look he has 
ever cast towards that happy land, and the 
last look he takes of aught until the body 
returns to the dust, and the spirit to him 
who gave it. 

The Bible never shuts out hope : and in 



182 

the example of the thief on the cross, it in- 
vites the dying sinner to look, that he may 
live for ever. But the Bible never en- 
courages the negligent, nor the presumptu- 
ous — it warns of the uncertainty of life and 
opportunity, and it exhibits the difficulty 
of overcoming settled habits of sin, under 
the similitude of the leopard changing his 
spots, or the Ethiopian his skin. In truth, 
every hour of delay makes this change 
more difficult and improbable, — because 
every hour is giving growth and strength 
to principles of an opposite description ; 
he is grieving and despising the Holy Spi- 
rit, and is making a dark league with hell, 
which is gaining validity and ratification by 
every act in accordance with it ! 



183 



SECTION VL 



I have already explained two causes why 
spiritual Christianity is so much opposed, 
and so rarely received with true cordiality 
amongst men. The first is, that its uncom- 
promising holiness of principle arms against 
it all the corruptions of our nature : The 
second is, that it rarely gains an attentive 
and full consideration, so as to be appre- 
hended in all its bearings, both in relation 
to the character of God and its influence 
on the heart of man. 

I shall now mention another circum- 
stance, nearly connected with the second of 
these causes, which often opposes the pro- 
gress of true religion. 

Many persons, in their speculations on 
Christianity, never get farther than the 
miracles which w r ere wrought in confirma- 
tion of its divine authority. Those who re- 
ject them are called infidels, and those who 
admit them are called believers ; and yet, 



184 

after all, there may be very little difference 
between them. A belief of the miracles 
narrated in the New Testament, does not 
constitute the faith of a Christian. These 
miracles merely attest the authority of the 
messenger, — they are not themselves the 
message: They are like the patentee's name 
on a patent medicine, which only attests its 
genuineness, and refers to the character of 
its inventor, but does not add to its virtue. 
Now, if we had such a scientific acquaint- 
ance with the general properties of drugs, 
that from examining them we could pre- 
dict their effects, then we should, in form- 
ing our judgment of a medicine, trust to 
our own analysis of its component parts, as 
well as to the inventor's name on the out- 
side ; and if the physician whose name it 
bore was a man of acknowledged eminence 
in his profession, we should be confirmed 
in our belief that it was really his inven- 
tion, and not the imposture of an empiric, 
by observing that the skill displayed in its 
composition was worthy of the character 
of its assigned author, and that it was well 
suited to the cases which it was proposed 
to remedy. And even though the name 



i 



185 

should be somewhat soiled, so as to be with 
difficulty deciphered, yet if the skill were 
distinctly legible, we should not hesitate to 
attribute it to a man of science, nor should 
we scruple to use it ourselves, on its own 
evidence, if our circumstances required such 
an application. 

If Alexander the Great could, by his 
own skill, have discovered, in the cup pre- 
sented to him by Philip, certain natural 
causes restorative of health, his confidence 
in the fidelity of his physician would have 
had a powerful auxiliary in his own know- 
ledge of the subject. The conviction of his 
friend's integrity w T as, in his case, however, 
sufficient by itself to overcome the suspi- 
cions of Parmenio. But if, by his own 
knowledge, he had detected any thing in 
the cup which appeared to him decidedly 
noxious, his confidence in his friend would 
have only led him to the conclusion, that 
this cup was really not prepared by him, 
but that some traitor, unobserved by him, 
had infused a poisonous ingredient in it. 

In like manner, if we discern that har- 
mony in the Christian revelation which is 
the stamp of God upon it, we shall find 



186 

little difficulty in admitting that external 
evidence by which he attested it to the 
world. And even though our opportunities 
or acquirements do not qualify us for fol- 
lowing the argument in support of miracles, 
yet if we are convinced that the remedial 
virtue of its doctrines suits the necessities 
and diseases of our nature, we will not he- 
sitate to assign it to the Great Physician 
of souls as its author, nor will we scruple 
to use it for our own spiritual health. 

No one who knows what God is, will re- 
fuse to receive a system of doctrines which 
he really believes was communicated by 
God : But then, no one in the right exer- 
cise of his reason, can, by any evidence, be 
brought to believe that what appears to him 
an absolute absurdity, did ever in truth 
come from God. At this point, the impor- 
tance of the internal evidence of revelation 
appears most conspicuous. If any intelli- 
gent man has, from hasty views of the sub- 
ject, received the impression that Christi- 
anity is an absurdity, or contains absurdi- 
ties, he is in a condition to examine the 
most perfect chain of evidence in its sup- 
port, with the simple feeling of astonish- 



187 

ment at the ingenuity and the fallibility 

of the human understanding. On a man 
in this state of mind, all arguments drawn 
from external evidence are thrown away. 
The thing which he wants is to know that 
the subject is worth a demonstration ; and 
this can only be learned by the study of the 
Bible itself. Let him but give his unpre- 
judiced attention to this book, and he will 
discover that there is contained in it the de- 
velopment of a mighty scheme, admirably 
fitted for the accomplishment of a mighty 
purpose : He will discover that this pur- 
pose is no less than to impart to man the 
happiness of God, by conforming him to 
the character of God : And he will observe 
with delight and with astonishment, that 
the grand and simple scheme by which this 
is accomplished, exhibits a system of moral 
mechanism, which, by the laws of our men- 
tal constitution, has a tendency to produce 
that character, as directly and necessarily 
as the belief of danger has to produce alarm, 
the belief of kindness to produce gratitude, 
or the belief of worth to produce esteem. He 
will discern, that this moral mechanism 
bears no mark of imposture or delusion, but 



188 

consists simply in a manifestation of the 
moral character of God, accommodated to 
the understandings and hearts of men. 
And lastly, he will perceive that this mani- 
festation only gives life and palpability to 
that vague though sublime idea of the Su- 
preme Being, which is suggested by en- 
lightened reason and conscience. 

When a man sees all this in the Bible* 
his sentiment will be, " I shall examine the 
evidence in support of the miraculous his- 
tory of this book ; and I cannot but hope 
to find it convincing : But even should I 
be left unsatisfied as to the continuity of 
the chain of evidence, yet of one thing I 
am persuaded, — it has probed the disease 
of the human heart to the bottom ; it has 
laid bare the source of its aberration from 
moral good and true happiness; and it 
has propounded a remedy which carries 
in itself the proof of its efficiency. The 
cause seems worthy of the interposition of 
God : He did once certainly display his 
own direct and immediate agency in the 
creation of the world ; and shall I deem it 
inconsistent with his gracious character, 
that he has made another immediate mani- 



189 

festation of himself in a work which had 
for its object the restoration of innumerable 
immortal spirits to that eternal happiness^ 
from which, by their moral depravation, 
they had excluded themselves ?" 

The external evidence is strong enough, 
if duly considered, to convince any man of 
any fact which he has not in the first place 
shut out from the common privilege of 
proof, by pronouncing it to be an impossi- 
bility. This idea of impossibility, when 
attached to the gospel, arises generally, as 
was before observed, from some mistaken 
notion respecting the matter contained in 
it. A very few remarks may be sufficient 
to show that this is the case. Those who 
hold this opinion do not mean to say abso- 
lutely that it is impossible to suppose, in 
consistency with reason, that God ever 
would make a direct manifestation of his 
own immediate agency in any case what- 
ever; because this would be in the very 
face of their own general acknowledgments 
with regard to the creation of the world : 
They must therefore be understood to mean 
no more, than that, considering the object 
and structure of Christianity, it is unrea* 



190 

Soiiable to suppose that it could be the sub- 
ject of a direct interposition from Heaven. 
We are thus brought precisely to the ar- 
gument which it has been the intention of 
this Essay to illustrate. 

Now, if we suppose that it was one of 
the objects of the Creator, in the formation 
of the w T orld, to impress upon his intelli- 
gent creatures an idea of his moral charac- 
ter—or, in other w<ords, to teach them na- 
tural religion (and that it was one of his 
objects, we may presume, from its having 
in some measure had this effect),— -it fol- 
lows, that a direct and immediate agency 
on the part of God, is closely connected 
with the design of manifesting his moral 
character to man ; and we may expect to 
meet these two things linked together in 
the system of God's government. If, 
therefore, the gospel contains a most vivid 
and impressive view of the Divine charac- 
ter, harmonizing with the revelation of na- 
ture, but far exceeding it in fulness and in 
power, are we to be surprised at an inter- 
position in its behalf of the same agency 
which was once before exhibited for a simi- 
lar purpose? Thus, the object of the gos- 



191 

pel, and its adaptation to that object, be-* 
come the great arguments for its truth; 
and those who have not studied it in this 
relation, are not competent judges of the 
question. Indeed, if we take the truth of 
the gospel for granted, we must infer that 
this distinct and beautiful adaptation of 
its means to its end, was intended by its 
Divine Author as its chief evidence ; since 
he must have foreseen that not one out of 
a hundred who should ever hear of it could 
either have leisure or learning to weigh its 
external evidence. And this will explain 
a great deal of infidelity ; for freethinkers 
in general are not acquainted with the sub- 
stance of revelation ; and thus they neglect 
that very point in it on which God himself 
rested its probability, and by which he in- 
vites belief. 

There may be also, for any thing that 
the reasoners of this world know, cycles in 
the moral world as well as in the natural ; 
there may be certain moral conjunctures, 
which, by the divine appointment, call for 
a manifestation of direct agency from the 
great First Cause ; and in this view, a 
miraculous interposition, though posterior 



192 

to the creation, cannot be considered as an 
infringement of the original scheme of 
things, but as a part, and an essential part 
of it. When the world was less advanced 
in natural science than it is at present, a 
comet was considered an infringement on 
the original plan. And the period may 
arrive, and will assuredly arrive, when the 
spirits of just men made perfect shall dis- 
cern as necessary a connexion between the 
character of God and all the obscurities 
of his moral government in our world, as 
the philosopher now discerns between the 
properties of matter and the movements of 
the various bodies belonging to our plane- 
tary system. 

If the gospel really w 7 as a communica- 
tion from heaven, it was to be expected 
that it would be ushered into the world by 
a miraculous attestation. It might have 
been considered as giving a faithful de- 
lineation of the Divine character, although 
it had not been so attested ; but it could 
never have impressed so deep a conviction, 
nor have drawn such reverence from the 
minds of men, had it not been sanctioned 
by credentials which could come from none 



193 

other than the King of kings. As this 
conviction and this reverence were neces- 
sary to the accomplishment of its moral 
object, the miracles which produced them 
were also necessary. Under the name of 
miraculous attestations, I mean merely 
those miracles which were extrinsic to the 
gospel, and did not form an essential part 
of it; for the greatest miracles of all — 
namely, the conception, resurrection, and 
ascension of our Lord — constitute the very 
substance of the Divine communication, 
and are essential to the development of 
that Divine character which gives to the 
gospel its whole importance. 

The belief of the miraculous attestation 
of the gospel, then, is just so far useful as 
it excites our reverence for and fixes our 
attention on the truth contained in the 
gospel. All the promises of the gospel are 
to faith in the gospel, and to those moral 
qualities which faith produces ; and we can- 
not believe that which we do not under- 
stand. We may believe that there is more 
in a thing than we can understand ; or we 
may believe a fact, the causes or modes of 
which we do not understand; but our ac- 

K 



194 

tual belief is necessarily limited by our ac* 
tual understanding. Thus, we understand 
what we say when we profess our belief 
that God became man, although we do not 
understand how. This how, therefore, is not 
the subject of belief ; because it is not the 
subject of understanding. We, however, 
understand why, — namely, that sinners 
might be saved, and the Divine character 
made level to our capacities ; and therefore 
this is a subject of belief. In fact, we can 
as easily remember a thing which we never 
knew, as believe a thing that we do not 
understand. In order, then, to believe the 
gospel, we must understand it ; and in or-* 
der to understand it, we must give it our 
serious attention. An admission of the 
truth of its miraculous attestation, unac- 
companied with a knowledge of its prince 
pies, serves no other purpose than to give 
a most mournful example of the extreme 
levity of the human mind. It is an ac- 
knowledgment that the Almighty took 
such a fatherly interest in the affairs of 
men, that he made a direct manifesta* 
tion of himself in this world, for their 
instruction ; and yet they feel no concern 



195 

upon the subject of this instruction. Never- 
theless, they say, and perhaps think, that 
they believe the gospel. One of the mira- 
culous appearances connected with our 
Saviour's ministry places this matter in a 
very clear light. When, on the Mount of 
Transfiguration, he for a short time antici- 
pated the celestial glory in the presence of 
three of his disciples, a voice came from 
heaven saying, " This is my beloved Son ; 
liear ye him" He was sent to tell men 
something which they did not know. Those, 
therefore, who believed the reality of this 
miraculous appearance, and yet did not 
listen to what he taught, rejected him on 
the very ground on which it was of prime 
importance that they should receive him. 

The regeneration of the character is the 
grand object ; and this can only be effect- 
ed by the pressure of the truth upon the 
mind. Our knowledge of this truth must 
be accurate, in order that the image im- 
pressed upon the heart may be correct; 
but we must also know it in all the awful- 
ness of its authority, in order that the im- 
pression may be deep and lasting. Its mo- 
tives must be ever operating on us — its re- 



196 

presentations ever recurring to us— its hopes 
ever animating us. This will not relax, 
but rather increase our diligence in the 
business of life. When we are engaged 
in the service of a friend, do we find that 
the thought of that friend and of his kind- 
ness retards our exertions? — No. And 
when we consider all the business of life 
as work appointed to us by our Father, 
we shall be diligent in it for his sake. In 
fact, however clearly we may be able to 
state the subject, and however strenuous 
we may be in all the orthodoxy of its de- 
fence, there must be some flaw in our view 
of it, if it remains only a casual or an un- 
influential visitor of our hearts. Its in- 
terests are continually pressing ; eternity 
is every moment coming nearer ; and our 
characters are hourly assuming a form more 
decidedly connected with the extreme of 
happiness or misery. In such circum- 
stances, trifling is madness. The profes- 
sed infidel is a reasonable man in compari- 
son with him who admits the Divine in- 
spiration of the gospel, and yet makes it a 
secondary object of his solicitude. 

The Monarch of the Universe has pro- 



197 

claimed a general amnesty of rebellion, 
whether we give or withhold our belief or 
our attention ; and if an amnesty were all 
that we needed, our belief or our attention 
would probably never have been required. 
Our notions of pardon and punishment are 
taken from our experience of human laws. 
We are in the habit of considering punish- 
ment and transgression as two distinct and 
separate things, which have been joined 
together by authority, and pardon as no- 
thing more than the dissolution of this 
arbitrary connexion. And so it is amongst 
men ; but so it is not in the world of spirits. 
Sin and punishment there are one thing. 
Sin is a disease of the mind which neces- 
sarily occasions misery ; and therefore the 
pardon of sin, unless it be accompanied 
with some remedy for this disease, cannot 
relieve from misery. 

This remedy, as I have endeavoured to 
explain, consists in the attractive and sanc- 
tifying influence of the Divine character 
manifested in Jesus Christ. Pardon is 
preached through him, and those who real- 
ly believe are healed ; for this belief im- 
plants in the heart the love of God and 



198 

the love of man, which is only another 
name for spiritual health. Carelessness, 
then, comes to the same thing as a decided 
infidelity. It matters little in what parti- 
cular way, or on what particular grounds, 
we put the gospel from us. If we do put 
it from us either by inattention or rejec- 
tion, we lose all the benefits which it is 
fitted to bestow ; whilst, on the other hand, 
he who does receive it, receives along with 
it all those benefits, whether his belief has 
originated from the external evidence, or 
simply from the conviction of guilt and 
the desire of pardon, and the discovery 
that the gospel meets his necessities as a 
weak and sinful creature, — just as a voy- 
ager gains all the advantage of the informa- 
tion contained in his chart, whatever the 
evidence may have been on which he at 
first received it. 

This last illustration may explain to us 
why God should have declared faith to be 
the channel of all his mercies to his intelli- 
gent creatures. The chart is useless to the 
voyager, unless he believes that it is really 
a description of the ocean which he has to 
pass, with all its boundaries and rocks and 



199 

shoals and currents ; and the gospel is use- 
less to man, unless he believes it to be a 
description of the character and will of that 
Great Being on whom his eternal interests 
depend. Besides, the nature of the gospel 
required such a reception in another point 
of view : It was necessary to its very object, 
that its blessings should be distinctly mark- 
ed out to be of free and unmerited bounty. 
When we speak of benefits fieely bestowed, 
we say of them, " You may have them by 
asking for them,"— distinguishing them by 
this mode of expression as gifts, from those 
things for which we must give a price. 
Precisely the same idea is conveyed by the 
gospel declaration, " Believe, and ye shall 
be saved." When it is asked, How am I 
to obtain God's mercy ? the gospel answers, 
that " God has already declared himself 
reconciled through Jesus Christ ; so you 
may have it by believing it." Faith, there- 
fore, according to the gospel scheme, both 
marks the freeness of God's mercy, and is 
the channel through which that mercy ope- 
rates on the character. 

It has been my object, throughout this 
Essay, to draw the attention of the reader 



200 

to the internal structure of the religion of 
the Bible, — first, because I am convinced 
that no man in the unfettered exercise of 
his understanding can fully and cordially 
acquiesce in its pretensions to Divine in- 
spiration, until he sees in its substance that 
which accords both with the character of 
God and with the wants of man ; and se- 
condly, because any admission of its Diving 
original, if unaccompanied with a know- 
ledge of its principles, is absolutely useless. 
We generally find, that the objections 
which are urged by sceptics against the in- 
spiration of the Bible, are founded on some 
apparent improbability in the detached parts 
of the system. These objections are often 
repelled by the defenders of Christianity as 
irrelevant; and the objectors are referred 
to the unbroken and well-supported line of 
testimony in confirmation of its miraculous 
history. This may be a silencing argument, 
but it will not be a convincing one. The 
true way of answering such objections, when 
seriously and honestly made, seems to me 
to consist in showing the relation which 
these detached parts bear to the other 
parts, and then in explaining the harmony 



£01 

and efficiency of the whole system. When 
a man sees the fulness and beauty of this 
harmony, he will believe that the system of 
Christianity is in truth the plan of the Di- 
vine government, whether it has actually 
been revealed in a miraculous way or not ; 
and if he finds that the fact of its being in- 
spired really enters into the substance of 
the system, and is necessary to it, he will 
be disposed to believe that too. 

Let us suppose a man brought from the 
heart of Africa, perfectly ignorant of the 
discoveries of Europe, but of excellent 
parts : Let him be fully instructed in all 
the mathematical and physical knowledge 
connected with the Newtonian philosophy, 
but without having the system of astrono- 
my communicated to him ; and then let us 
suppose that his instructor should announce 
to him that most perfect and most beauti- 
ful of human discoveries under the name 
of a direct revelation from heaven. The 
simplicity and the grandeur of the theory 
would fill his imagination and fasten his 
attention ; and as he advanced in the more 
minute consideration of all its bearings, the 
full and accurate agreement of its principles 



202 

with all the phenomena of the heavenly 
bodies, would force on his mind a convic- 
tion of its truth. He may then be supposed 
to say to his instructor, " I believe that you 
have unfolded to me the true system of the 
material universe, whether you are really 
under the influence of inspiration or not. 
Indeed, the most thorough belief in your 
pretensions could scarce add an iota to my 
conviction of the truth of your demonstra- 
tion. I see a consistency in the thing it- 
self, which excludes doubting." 

We judge of the probability or impro- 
bability of a new idea, by comparing it with 
those things which we are already acquaint- 
ed with, and observing how it fits in with 
them. The complete fitting-in of the astro- 
nomical system with facts already observed, 
is the ground of our belief in its truth. 
The materials of the system lie around us 
in the appearances of nature ; and we are 
delighted to find an intelligible principle 
which will connect them all. If a person 
has paid no attention to these appearances, 
he will feel proportionally little interest in 
the discovery of a connecting principle ; be- 
cause he has not felt that uneasiness of 



203 

mind which is produced by the observation 
of unexplained facts. A certain degree of 
education is necessary to excite this uneasy 
curiosity ; and therefore both its pains and 
its pleasures are confined to a very limited 
number. But when the facts to be explain- 
ed are connected with a deep and universal 
moral interest, and when the most ordinary 
powers of thinking are equal to the intel- 
lectual exertion which is required, there 
can be no limitation either of the number 
of the students or of the intensity of the 
excitement, except in consequence of the 
most lamentable carelessness. 

The materials of the Christian system 
lie thick about us. They consist in the 
feelings of our own hearts, in the history of 
ourselves and of our species, and in the in- 
timations which we have of God from his 
works and ways, and the judgments and 
anticipations of conscience. We feel that 
we are not unconcerned spectators of these 
things. We are sure, that if there be a 
principle which can explain and connect 
them all together, it must be a most im- 
portant one for us ; it must determine our 
everlasting destiny. It is evident that this 



204 

master-principle can exist nowhere but in 
the character of God. He is the universal 
Ruler, and he rules according to the prin- 
ciples of his own character. The Christian 
system accordingly consists in a develop- 
ment of the Divine character ; and as the 
object of this development is a practical and 
moral one, it does not linger long to gratify 
a speculative curiosity, but hastes forward 
to answer that most interesting of all in- 
quiries, u What is the road to permanent 
happiness ?" This question holds the same 
rank in moral questions, and enters as deep- 
ly into the mystery of God's spiritual go- 
vernment, as the corresponding question, 
u What law regulates and retains a planet 
in its orbit ?" does in the natural world. 

If a planet had a soul and a power of 
choice, and if, by wandering from its bright 
path, it incurred the same perplexities and 
difficulties and dangers that man does when 
he strays from God, — and if the laws which 
directed its motions were addressed to its 
mind, and not, as impulses, on its material 
substance, — its enquiry, after it had left its 
course, would also be, " How shall I regain 
my orbit of peace and of glory." The an- 



205 

swer to this question would evidently con- 
tain in it the whole philosophy of astrono- 
my, as far as the order of its system was 
concerned. In like manner, the answer to 
the inquiry after spiritual and permanent 
happiness, embraces all the principles of the 
Divine government as far as man is con- 
cerned. 

The answer to the planet would contain 
a description of its proper curve : But this 
is not enough, — the method of regaining it 
and continuing in it must be also explained. 
We may suppose it to be thus addressed, — 
" Keep your eye and your thoughts fixed 
on that bright luminary, to whose generous 
influences you owe so-maay blessings. Your 
order, your splendour, your fertility, all pro- 
ceed from your relation to him. When that 
relation is infringed, these blessings disap- 
pear. Your experience tells you this. Re- 
trace, then, your steps, by recalling to your 
grateful remembrance his rich and liberal 
kindness. This grateful and dependent af- 
fection is the golden chain which binds you 
to your orbit of peace and of glory. 55 

To man's inquiry after permanent hap- 
piness, an answer is given to the same pur- 



206 

pose. The path of duty and happiness is 
marked out in the great commandments* 
" Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with 
all thy heart and soul and mind and 
strength, and thy neighbour as thyself." 
But this is not enough — man has left this 
path, and therefore the way of return to it, 
and the mode of continuing in it, form the 
essential and prominent features of the gra- 
cious message, which declares glad tidings 
to our ruined race. Jesus Christ is de- 
clared to be the true and living way to the 
Divine favour, and to the character of ho-* 
liness. He says, " Look unto me and be 
ye saved, all ye ends of the earth." "Come 
unto me all ye that are weary and heavy 
laden, and I will give you rest." " Abide 
in me, and let my word abide in you." 
" For God so loved the world, that he gave 
his only-begotten Son, that whosoever be* 
lieveth in him should not perish, but have 
everlasting life" or joy. And any one who 
humbly and candidly considers the Divine 
character of love and of holiness which is 
developed in the history of Jesus Christ, 
will discover in it the true centre of moral 
gravitation — the Sun of Righteousness, set 



207 

in the heavens to drive darkness and chaos 
from our spiritual system, and by its sweet 
and powerful influence to attract the wan- 
dering affections of men into an orbit ap- 
pointed by the will and illumined by the 
favour of God. According to this system, 
a grateful and humble affection towards 
God, founded on a knowledge of his true 
character, is the principle of order and of 
happiness in the moral world. The confu- 
sion and the restlessness which w r e see in 
the world, and which we often experience 
in our own breasts, give abundant testi- 
mony to the truth of this proposition in its 
negative form. Ignorance and indifference 
about the character of Gcd generally pre- 
vail ; we love the creature more than the 
Creator — the gifts more than the giver-*- 
our own inclinations more than his will — i 
and disorder and misery are the necessary 
consequences. And is it not evident to 
reason, that an entire conformity to the 
Ruling Will of the universe, is only ano- 
ther name for order and happiness ? and 
can this conformity be produced in any ra- 
tional being, except by a knowledge and a 
love of that will ? The character of God is 



208 

manifested in the history of Jesus Christ, 
for our knowledge and for our love. This 
manifestation harmonizes with the sugges- 
tions of reason and conscience on the sub- 
ject : Nay more, it gathers them up, as 
they lie before the mind in detached frag- 
ments ; it supplies their deficiencies, and 
unites them all in one glorious fabric of 
perfect symmetry and beauty. It meets 
the heart of man, in all its capacities and 
affections ; its appeal is exactly shaped for 
the elementary principles of our nature. 
The glorious truth which it reveals is adapt- 
ed to every mind ; it is intelligible to a 
child, and yet will dilate the understanding 
of an angel. As the understanding en- 
larges, this truth still grows upon it, and 
must for ever grow upon it, because it is 
the image of the infinite God. Yet, great 
as it is, it is fitted to produce its effect, 
wherever it is received, however limited 
the capacity into which it enters. The 
principle of the wedge operates as fully at 
the first stroke as at any subsequent one, 
although the effect is not so perceptible. 

I have endeavoured, in the course of 



209 

these remarks, to give an idea of the mode 
which seems to me best fitted for illustra- 
ting the harmony which subsists between 
the Christian system and the mass of moral 
facts which lie without us and within us. 
I have endeavoured to explain the great- 
ness of its object, and its natural fitness 
for the accomplishment of that object. He 
who has not given his earnest attention to 
these things, may call himself an infidel, or 
a believer, but he has yet to learn what 
that doctrine is which he rejects or admits. 
There is nothing new in this cursory 
sketch of Christian doctrines. Indeed, I 
should conceive a proof of novelty on such 
a subject as tantamount to a proof of error. 
But I think that the view here taken has 
not been sufficiently pressed as an argu- 
ment in favour of the credibility of revela- 
tion ; for, although an indirect kind of 
evidence in itself, it seems well fitted for 
preparing and disposing an unbeliever to 
examine with candour the more direct 
proof which arises from historical testimony. 
And it may also perform the no less im- 
portant office of infusing into a nominal 
Christian, a doubt as to his sincerity in 



210 

the profession of a faith which has per- 
haps neither made a distinct impression 
on his understanding, nor touched his 
heart, nor affected his character. 



THE END. 



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Edinburgh. 



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